#Like a lot of those things I didn’t allow myself to indulge in for quite a few years

[sapphosboy]

Honestly, I feel like a huge part of the self journey, and I know this is cheesy as hell, is allowing yourself to love the things that you’ve been stopping yourself from loving because you thought they were too cheesy or because you thought people would judge you and say that you don’t have good taste. But now that I’m actually allowing myself to enjoy things and enjoy myself and live, I’m getting back into songs and media that kind of indulge my younger self and it’s really satisfying.

[joelswritingmistress]

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 43

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible. 

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader 

The night was nearly perfect. No, it was perfect. Meeting Dr. Miller’s parents and getting insight into their family dynamic was so enjoyable I didn’t want the night to end.

Normally, I couldn’t wait to drag him back to wherever the two of you could be alone. When everyone began to say goodnight after their final drink of the evening, I was actually disappointed. His mother and father were equally witty, both in different ways. She was fiery, he was dry but they complimented one another so well. And hearing an embarrassing story or two from Dr. Miller’s childhood was icing on the cake.

Strolling hand-in-hand with him now that the two of us were alone, however, had my stomach fluttering with those butterflies that just wouldn’t go away. Meeting the Miller family heightened my feelings for Joel.

Joel. Joel. It was Joel. I knew I had to get used to that, and in my mind, finally, I was.

When we got to the door of our room, I put a hand on his chest when the two of us turned instinctively toward one another. I looked down and back up to meet his stare.

“This has been a great night,” I told him. It was quite the understatement. My heart was aching in such a way that I knew I had fallen deeper in love with Dr. Miller. I didn't think that was possible - until tonight. My attachment and fear of loss had heightened, and it suddenly made me all the more frightened to lose them - all of them. Joel, Carol, Will, Chas and Franky. I wanted to be a part of their circle; their family.

“Gotta love those embarrassing stories,” Dr. Miller said with a grin, beginning to put the key card into place to open the door.

“You have a really great family,” I told him, as the door clicked open. He allowed me inside a step ahead of him.

“They are great,” he acknowledged. “I honestly don’t know what I would do without them.”

I smiled up at him and I felt a rush of emotion. It could have made me cry if I allowed myself to indulge in it, but I didn’t. When I pulled Dr. Miller in for a long hug, I closed my eyes. He was my rock.

Dr. Miller cradled the back of my head with his hand and kissed the top of my head. “I really do love you, ya know.”

“I love you, too,” I muffled against him. When I pulled back I looked at him and shook my head, “I’m so scared to lose this.”

“Don’t be.” He shook his head.

“I am.” I shrugged, still attaching myself to him, “I didn’t think it was possible to fall any harder for you, Joel, but it keeps happening. It’s you. It’s your family. It’s this. It’s us.” My eyes met his when all of my thoughts finally manifested into a cluster of fast-paced mini-sentences.

“I understand,” Dr. Miller claimed with a nod, “I do. Believe it or not, I have never felt so attached to somebody in my life. It’s rare that I’ve introduced someone to my mother and father.”

“Really?”

“I know we started off this thing kind of unconventionally,” he acknowledged, “And I know we’ve kind of done things in an order that probably wouldn’t make sense to most people, but I’ve felt connected to you since the first time I saw you.”

I smiled and swallowed hard and looked down. Fuck, I was trying not to cry. I hated crying. Especially in situations like this. When a tear fell, I wiped it away and Dr. Miller hugged me again.

“Everything’s good,” he reminded me, stroking my hair as he held me.

“I know.” I managed a deep breath, never allowing myself to get into a heavy sob. I dried the stray tears that betrayed me and flashed him a genuine smile. “It’s just a lot.. in a really good way that I’m not used to.”

“I get it.”

I knew he did. My hand fell to his face and I just looked at him in such a way that activated his need to kiss me. I could taste the whiskey on his tongue and it was more intoxicating than anything we’d had to drink at the party.

“You taste good,” I whispered against his lips, making him chuckle. I laughed along with him and we locked eyes again for a second before he dove back in, kissing me again.

Dr. Miller’s hands found the backs of my legs and lifted high up, gripping my buttocks on both sides as they rode up my dress. When I felt his fingers grip around the fabric of my lacy thong I bit down on my bottom lip.

He pulled them down with ease, toward my ankles. The heels I wore were still on and I allowed him to pull them off first before tossing my underwear to the floor.

I had grown ten times more confident in my own skin since being with Dr. Miller. I found myself far less than perfect, but he made me feel like a goddess without even trying. Without even thinking, I ducked my arms out of the straps of my dress and shoved it down toward my waist until I bared myself fully to him.

Something about the fact that Dr. Miller was still fully-clothed aroused me. Maybe it reminded me of his school attire and I was somehow associating our current situation with all of my office and classroom-based fantasies I still had for him.

I pulled him by his tie toward me and he wasted no time collapsing his body onto mine on the bed as he made out with me with more force. My legs parted, he made himself home between them and when I felt him reaching for the buckle on his pants I let my head fall back against the pillow in anticipation.

When I felt his bare skin against me as his pants slid off his hips, my arms tightened around his clothed-upper body. I whimpered in his ear when he upped our intimacy to the next level. Never in my life had a man felt so completely like home. My body was his to have as freely as my heart was.

I half-expected Dr. Miller to whisper those perfectly spoken dirty nothings into my ear as he moved methodically on top of me. I loved how naturally they rolled off his tongue. But, instead, he kissed along my collar bone, my neck and the tops of my breasts. It wasn’t aggressive and torrid, the way he often commenced our evenings. Dr. Miller was taking his time, moving inside of me at a slow, toe-curling, pace.

I laid back and enjoyed every inch of him. This is what I needed after a night like tonight; after acknowledging how deep my feelings truly were for him. I didn’t even know how badly I needed it until we were in the middle of it.

Dr. Miller pushed back onto his knees, still clad in his shirt and tie, and stared down at me as he held the outsides of my hips. I thought he was in full control until he stopped mid-thrust and closed his eyes, resting his hands on my bent knees. He let out a deep breath and tried to compose himself.

When I felt him exit my body, I whined a little groan of disapproval. Despite him being on the verge of finishing, he managed a smile, still keeping his eyes closed. I giggled out loud and then reached for his tie again, guiding just his lips back to mine.

“I need a second,” he whispered, as his body slowly laid back down on top of mine. Dr. Miller pecked my lips several times in a row.

“Just kiss me then,” I begged, running my hands up the back of his shirt to feel him.

Dr. Miller wrestled with his tie, and I could see it was buying himself the time he needed; the perfect momentary distraction. He got it undone and pulled the shirt up and over his head, before towing the blankets up over us as he tossed it to the side.

With both hands he grabbed my face and kissed me again. The mid-love making foreplay left my body craving him even more. Kissing him, touching him, feeling his unveiled body colliding with mine beneath the covers was my own personal definition of ecstasy. It left me as putty in his hands to mold however he wished when he finally connected himself to me once more.

I was grateful that he had ditched his shirt so I could hold him properly. I hugged Dr. Miller’s body to mine. The warmth that radiated out of him and that scent of the Old Fashioned that still lingered somehow added to the experience

My eyes never opened. I let the rest of my senses take control and didn’t hold back how he was making me feel.

“Dr. Miller,” I whimpered as he finally surpassed the gentle threshold and bit down on my neck.

“Call me Joel,” he whispered back. It was the opposite of what he’d demanded in the past.

My arms tightened around him. “I will after I come,” I whispered again.

“Mmm..” Dr. Miller grabbed my face a little rougher now and we fought for dominance as we made out. I felt him pick up the pace, like the animal had been released from that one sentence.

He had primed me perfectly for this. The buildup was there. My insides were on fire and I knew that any of his thrusts could push me over the edge at any given moment. I held him hard, his erratic breaths landed on my neck.

“Come for me,” he begged in my ear, whispering directly against it as his body lurched forward in rapid succession.

I felt the impending explosion. Thrust after thrust I was closer. I whined. I whimpered. I moaned. Each time he begged me to let it out, and my inhibitions lowered as my orgasm began to creep in.

“Fuck, Dr. Miller.” I cried out his name and then cursed again as I let myself go to the eruption of pleasure.

“Ohhh, fuck..” He continued to thrust but I knew he was coming from how loud he groaned, accompanied by the phrase I’d grown to lust and love, “Ohh… good girl. Fuck. You’re so good.” He came as hard as I did, pumping into me a final series of times as I dug my fingers into his upper back and held him hard against me.

We both breathed heavily as we writhed in the aftermath of our simultaneous orgasms. I hummed a moan into his ear and he let his head fall against the pillow as his body went limp on top of me.

I kissed the top of his shoulder lazily and then let my head fall back again. “Mmm..”

“Mmm..” Dr. Miller echoed. He kissed my cheek and I smiled, still hugging him against me with no intention of letting go. “I’m tempted to just quit my job and use all my money to take you away to some tropical island and just.. drink fruity drinks and do this with you six times a day for the rest of our lives.”

I smiled and moaned again quietly as Dr. Miller began to gently kiss my neck. “Don’t tease me.” I let out a little laugh.

“Mmm..” He planted a long, closed-mouth kiss on my lips. “I’m in this for the long haul, ya know.”

I opened my eyes and looked up as his flickered open at the same time. “You mean that?” I honestly don’t know why I asked that, but a part of me wanted to hear him say it again. It was misplaced insecurity because of how overwhelmingly perfect our situation felt.

“Yeah.” Dr. Miller gave a nod. His eyes studied mine.

“So am I,” I said back, “If you’ll have me.”

“Again and again.” He peppered my lips as he spoke, “And again.”

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandojojo @shotgun-shelby @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @macaroni676 @smolbeanzzz @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @bandluvr97

[undercityrezident]

My Thoughts on Echoes of Wisdom

So, I thought I had a decent idea of what I was getting into while playing The Legend of Zelda: Echoes of Wisdom. While the trailers had given me insight into the gameplay and the basic concepts at play, I didn’t envision the sheer synergy of game philosophies being married here: the old Zelda and the new. That and a dash of real-time Pokemon or Pikmin being added to the recipe.

To add to this, Nintendo and Grezzo certainly made this game a lot deeper and more engrossing a game than I thought it would be. And I’m quite glad for that. I hadn’t gone into this game with the intense level of hype I’ve gone into other Zelda games with because I’ve learned to temper my expectations due to my growing level of cynicism with the gaming industry.

However, while this certainly isn’t some 150-hour juggernaut to play through (though it does come at about the same monetary cost as a few of those—thank you, awful Canadian dollar conversion rates), this doesn’t make it feel any less valuable a gaming experience. It packs a lot into its small package through diversity in design ideas, a well-paced story, and thought into how the devs gave a great deal of power to players in tackling challenges.

In short, this means that this game does a lot of the great things I’ve praised Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom for doing without falling into some of the same pitfalls those games do. Echoes of Wisdom employs much of the same ideas and aesthetics while keeping a core, classic Zelda experience.

Below the cut, I’ll tell you exactly how and why that is. Beware of complete game spoilers from this point forward:

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Echoes of My Voice

To inform any readers here on the standards that I’ll be measuring this game by, I’ve completed, more or less, everything in the game. I’ve finished the story; collected all the echoes, stamps, and might crystals; upgraded all my equipment; collected all the outfits and accessories, and I’m fairly certain I’ve completed all the quests and side quests. However, I’ve not made every single combination of smoothie, and according to a let’s play of the game I watched, I’ve only missed a few overworld cave chests with some minor items inside.

As often I do with open-world games, I tended to explore the regions to reveal the map and collect goodies before attempting quests in the area. Having done just that, I think my usual method of exploration might’ve minorly taken away from the experience of discovery that comes paired with progressing the story, though that’s less a critique of the game and something I have to resolve with myself as a player.

But compared to the awful consequences of the same exploration tendencies with Tears of the Kingdom where you could spoil huge story points by simply exploring, Echoes of Wisdom, thankfully, keeps such things gated behind proper game progression, allowing players to explore without fear of such things. For open-world games, I think exploration should be either a joy, a curiosity to indulge, or a lead-in to teasing boons that help build anticipation for something to come in the game’s plot. If it ends up becoming a detriment to either story or gameplay, then it’s poor open-world design, plain and simple. But I’m happy to report that this is not a concern with Echoes of Wisdom.

Even with trailers and the like to give some light to the story and gameplay we were getting, I could enjoy this game without feeling too spoiled. That said, if you’re a fan who has yet to play this game, stop reading this commentary and try going into it without watching any trailers or viewing any promotional material. I think this game could’ve been even better for me if I’d gone into it completely blind, as the discoveries of what I could do could’ve hit even harder, though they don’t lack any sort of punch, even with my foreknowledge.

So, for those who need not worry about spoilers and with all the above in mind, let me break down this game bit by bit.

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Echoes of Worlds Gone By

Echoes of Wisdom certainly draws inspiration from other Zelda games in designing its world, first and foremost from A Link to the Past. One could say that that majority of the core central map is derived from the Super Nintendo classic, with a sort of frame of new content around it both literal and figurative. That’s not to say this world’s map is copy and pasted. Far from it, in fact. But fans of the old game will no doubt recognize features both obvious and subtle.

You will find the ruins of the Eastern and Desert Palaces in their respective places as examples of obvious landmarks. However, something less obvious is how, to the southwest of the castle, there is a grove of trees with a tree stump at the centre. However, you’ll find no flute-playing phantom and a gathering of wild animals engrossed by it, but a heart piece instead: a nice nod and reward to those who saw and appreciate the reference.

However, that’s where most similarities to A Link to the Past end. What once could’ve once been referred to geographically as Death Mountain are now Hebra Mountain and the Holy Mount Lanayru instead, now doffing their rocky exterior for an ice-capped one—not terribly unlike Lorule’s equivalent in A Link Between Worlds. Meanwhile, the new stand-in for the fiery Death Mountain we all know and love from later games comes in the form of Eldin Volcano in the northwest. Zora’s river has now been greatly expanded to include not just a larger river system but also a large oceanic bay it flows into. As well, entirely new regions have been added in the form of Suthorn Woods and the Faron Wetlands, the former perhaps being a very subtle nod to Twilight Princess’s Ordon (being the origin for Link in this game) and the latter being a reference to the southeastern Faron jungles in Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom.

Regardless of where your era of play experience in the Zelda franchise comes from, you’ll probably find something to look at and point and say with all the sincerity of Captain America, “I understood that reference!”

But while geography is all well and good, it’s only one half of the picture when it comes to creating full and real worlds. The other half is its denizens, and I’m happy to report that Echoes of Wisdom has picked up the slack that Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom left unchecked. While this might be an unfair critique or comparison given the massive size differences in maps between the 3D Switch titles and this one, I do sorely believe that the former titles’ worlds could’ve felt so much deeper and richer with greater populations inhabiting them. I completely understand the need for Breath of the Wild to make its Hyrule uninhabited, but I feel Tears of the Kingdom could’ve stood to add some people in various repopulation and reclamation efforts throughout its otherwise empty vistas.

But, focusing on this game, Echoes of Wisdom’s size and population match each other far better. While people aren’t everywhere, I certainly feel like I need to travel a lot shorter distances to find people, whether they be Hylians, Zora, Gorons, Deku Scrubs, or Gerudo. This makes the world feel a bit more lived in, which made me more excited to explore and see who I could meet.

The only thing I can’t say that are improvements over the previous Switch titles is the depth of the cultures. However, neither were they declines in quality. The stories and lore surrounding each area’s culture were fun and characterized each group of people well. But, at the same time, since these areas were scaled down, there was less happening outside of the main quest, giving us fewer opportunities to learn about their associated people and their traditions. And the few side quests there were quite shallow compared to some we completed in the 3D Switch titles. But what we lost in depth, we gained in zany comedy and bits aimed at younger audiences, so I can’t fault it too much.

As for aesthetics in the game and its people, I can see plenty of people being turned off by this game’s art style. Yes, it’s drawn from the same DNA as the Link’s Awakening remake, but I found a lot of charm with that game, and I found the same charm here as well, and then some. I hope that those who focus on the presentation of the game and its world can look past the surface of its apparent childish design and see the depth of emotion it presents, ranging from peaks of comedy to valleys of tragedy. I might not have been hit as hard by this game in critical moments as I was in Tears of the Kingdom, but Echoes of Wisdom still had great moments that leaned into its style very well.

It’s also damn adorable, and that counts for something with me.

Yet, this game didn’t just do cute. It managed to do creepy, as well. Nowhere was this more evident than in the Stilled World. It had a tense, oppressing atmosphere that conveyed the threat that we were dealing with. From the disparate floating patches of slowly dripping world stolen from ours to the petrified, photo-negative-coloured people hung in the air to slowly decay to nothing, even the cute art style did nothing to soften this purple-hued world that reflects the rifts we see marking its entry points Hyrule. Art and colour direction go a long way to convey the foreboding nature of the Stilled World, making it a perfect contrast to the more charming Hyrule we know. Yes, it’s another take on a “Dark World” variant, but it works, as it’s both intrinsically tied to the story and provides a contrasting aesthetic to the bright and sunny Hyrule that stands apart from its contemporaries.

Admittedly, this game isn’t beating the Pokemon comparison allegations with how the Stilled World resembles the Distortion World… not that such a comparison is a bad thing in my eyes.

In any case, this game nails its world design on both sides of the coin. If you’re up for exploring a new Hyrule, I very much endorse exploring this awesome version of it.

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Echoes of Gameplay

Super Smash Bros aside, this is the closest we’re getting to a Pokemon crossover with the Legend of Zelda, plain and simple. If you know me and my blog, this is absolutely my jam.

I knew we were eschewing the traditional Legend of Zelda sword-and-shield gameplay in favour of Zelda’s summoner-esque style of combat. What I didn’t expect was such a complex system of monsters and battling.

Now, don’t get me wrong, it’s not 15+ types of dense, pseudo-rock-paper-scissors advantages/weaknesses equations like actual Pokemon, but it definitely keeps ideas like that in mind. Whenever you pick up a new echo—and dear lord, there are so many, it’s amazing but also overwhelming at times—you can read a quick blurb about it, not unlike a Pokedex entry, and see its features. Some, like the Darknut line (yes, there are improvements on echoes throughout the game, so some of your faves can get stronger), move slowly but hit hard. Others are fast but hit lightly or frequently. Certain monsters have weaknesses to certain types of damage, like how plant monsters are typically vulnerable to fire. Environmental factors come into play, too. Some beasts only function or cannot function at all in water, while some are amphibious!

While there are some instances where picking echoes for a particular combat scenario is encouraged, I found you can proceed with your favourites for most of the game without too much issue, though you’ll probably feel you need to use more powerful ones as the game goes on for practicality. That said, you can field a variety of favourites for flexibility, not unlike an actual Pokemon team. I greatly enjoyed thinking about what to employ in a situation for best effect, though I often ended up defaulting to a few of my favourites anyway.

In case anyone is interested, I’m one of the many who used Peahats to steamroll through the early game, though I often ended up using Wolfos around that time for their mobility. By mid-game, I had found a great combination in the form of the Ball-and-Chain Trooper and ReDeads: the ReDeads stunning foes while the troopers revved up before attacking was a favourite combination of mine. Towards the end of the game, I found the White Wolfos and their summoned pack alongside a Guay for aerial support was pretty effective as well.

Similarly, I watched a let’s play of someone who used Peahats about 75% of the time throughout the game and absolutely had a ball with it. I think the mark of this game’s success comes in the fact people can approach its combat in so many ways and enjoy it in all those myriad fashions.

Some might complain that this indirect method of combat boils down to summoning your echoes and waiting—or even literally sleeping if you summon a bed and decide to recover your hearts while your minions fight for you—is very uninvolved, uninspiring, or even boring. I can understand how a person might say this, especially toward the beginning of the game while you’re sitting at a vulnerable three or four hearts and only have Zols or Moblins for summons. However, I find the combat becomes so much more dynamic as the game goes on.

In fact, you quickly gain swordfighter form near the beginning of the game, which allows you to get into the fray directly if you want to or if your echoes can’t do the job themselves. I’m glad the swordfighter form is limited though, as I think treating what is usually an infinite resource as finite is a great twist on the Zelda formula. It puts one’s mind through their paces to think things through differently, making the game that much more engaging and differentiating it from other Zelda games. Considering we’re working with a completely different protagonist with entirely unique strengths and weaknesses, it makes complete sense, and it’s a beautiful way of uniting gameplay with characterization.

Unfortunately, I do have to say there were times when I felt the monster AI could’ve used some polish. I can’t be sure if the instances of this were designed around the idea that not all monsters are smart or if it was a flaw in the system, but even when I targeted specific creatures or objects for my echoes to attack or interact with, they sometimes took ages to comply, making timing or precision-based puzzles or encounters a greater pain than they ought to have been. This was a minor source of annoyance from time to time.

As well, some echoes worked in cycles, and if your monster echoes got into an animation or attack cycle that made them completely ineffectual against monsters around them, it could be quite tedious. If you ever picked a Wizzrobe to fight another Wizzrobe, you probably know what I’m talking about with its spell wind-up time.

But, overall, I found the combat experience to be quite satisfying and engrossing. Granted, it taxed the hell out of my brain at times, especially near the end of the game with the final two boss fights: having to evade attacks, summon echoes, and then also toggle on and off swordfighter mode to intervene or attack the boss while my echoes dealt with their minions was a lot to mentally juggle. It was enjoyable, but it sometimes left me a little frenetic.

And this might’ve just been me, but I barely made use of Dampe’s inventions in combat. It felt great to make them as part of his questlines, but deploying and winding them up felt so much slower than simply deploying an echo and having them do the same job faster. This mode of combat felt almost tacked on to the game, an outlier from the bevy of abilities that Tri granted you to the point of feeling out-of-theme.

But while combat was an intrinsic part of the game, I’d say that, in keeping with the wisdom theme of the game, the puzzles were an even bigger and more crucial part. While monsters made up a great deal of your echoes, more mundane—but no less important—object-based echoes made up a significant portion of your echo arsenal. And damn, were they used to great effect.

Both in the isometric top-down and the side-scroller-like 2D sections, the game employed puzzles that forced you to think about everything you had available to you. Yes, I felt quite stupid when I forgot that I had the bind ability a dozen times at the start of the game, but as I discovered the game’s MO with how it expected you to solve puzzles, they became incredibly satisfying to solve with a combination of echoes, bind, and reverse bind—though I will say the latter of those three tended to go unused for long portions of the game for me.

But, having watched another person play this game after I finished it, I was so pleased to discover just how flexible the solutions were. Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom often fostered numerous approaches to problems, though many still expected one kind of solution. However, this game feels like it perfected the art of freeform puzzle solving.

People often refer to Oracle of Ages as having some of the best puzzles in the series, as it was designed to be the puzzle-solving complement to Oracle of Seasons’ combat-focused gameplay. However, I felt that many of Oracle of Ages’ puzzles had solutions that were too obscure or unintuitive. Echoes of Wisdom, in contrast, is a game focused on puzzles (both in and out of combat) where, with very few exceptions (I’m looking at you Eastern Temple…), the puzzles feel very satisfying to solve. While there might be a few that absolutely stumped me for a while, if I looked at it long enough and tried enough solutions, I eventually got it.

That said, on seeing other people solve the same puzzles, I often had that 20/20 hindsight reaction where I wondered “How did I not think of that? That was so simple!” Such is the brilliance of this game in its variety, though I will concede that some echoes (the Flying Tile and the Platboom in particular) do rob a lot of creativity of certain puzzles where traversal is key.

Navigating around the world was also a challenge, and I mean that in a good way. In many games nowadays, climbing a mountain has been made to not feel nearly as daunting as it once did. If it is a challenge, then it’s only so in a cinematic way and not a gameplay one, with curated paths in the form of marked scalable walls or other easy-to-execute controller maneuvers.

In Echoes of Wisdom, scaling mountains, cliffs, walls, and gaps does require some forethought, especially when the game provides some wrinkle in the form of enemies or architecture. This truly makes this game a thinking-person’s game, as everything you do requires some measure of planning and execution, making even world traversal feel validating in some way. This also has the added benefit of giving the world’s fast-travel points even more value than usual, something I think we in the gaming community take for granted now.

Where the features of puzzle-solving and traversal blended beautifully was in the game’s dungeons. Yes, true-to-form traditional Zelda dungeons returned in this game, and I couldn’t have been happier! While most of the dungeons were fairly linear—the exceptions being Jabul Ruins and Faron Temple—I didn’t mind their structures at all. Most dungeons featured a series of great individual sequential puzzle challenges that tested me and my knowledge of the game and what I had available to me very well. How these features and ideas tied into both navigating the dungeon and fighting the bosses of each dungeon were also fantastic and usually very intuitive. While I very much appreciate the idea of dungeons whose entire layout or form is some sort of puzzle itself, Echoes of Wisdom’s dungeons are a variety I love as well.

The fact these dungeons blended the threat of the Stilled World with the traditional perils of delving into classic Zelda dungeons made them even better. A few of them have even been given the “Skull Woods” treatment from A Link to the Past, allowing several points of entry and exit. This, like Skull Woods, gives these dungeons a welcome sense of being tied to the world around it.

I have to say that my favourites are—the first being unsurprising given my love for desert-themed temples—the Gerudo Sanctum and the Lanayru Temple. Both are long, complex, and feature fantastic puzzles that iterate throughout the dungeon. Both also nailed their respective aesthetics, though the same could be said of any of the game’s dungeons.

Returning to the topic of traversal, one criticism I have is how the isometric view leads to some issues of perspective, whether in aiming projectiles, echoes, or in executing jumps. It was only through a video online that I discovered you could press the right stick into the controller to have the view centred above you directly. Whether this instruction was present in the initial tutorials or not, I cannot recall. If it was, it was easily missed on my end.

Another thing that contributed to some frustrations for me was the game’s controls. As with Tears of the Kingdom, I felt like it took too long for me to adjust to the game’s complicated control system. There are so many things you can do and features your character has that it can feel easy to press the wrong button and execute the wrong command all too often. This most often happened to me in combat when I wanted to summon something, and hit bind instead, or when I wanted to switch to a new echo and accidentally hit swordfighter form. This could be less an issue of the game and more of something to do with me, but considering I’ve heard the same from others, I feel like there could be something done to better align the controls to something more convenient or to streamline features somehow.

A lesser, though still often equally frustrating thing I felt when playing was how it was hard to deploy echoes, monsters or objects alike, in the exact spaces you wanted. While the game didn’t force you to move on a grid as it did in Link’s Awakening or other older 2D Zelda games, you generally deployed echoes on an invisible in-game grid that often forced things to spawn in spaces I didn’t intend. When this happened numerous times in a row, despite me repositioning myself many times—or having to muck around in the heat of combat to do so—I definitely found myself grinding my teeth a little bit.

Further, with regards to selecting echoes, this game does slightly improve on Tears of the Kingdom’s menuing issue. While you still generally must scroll through a seemingly endless selection of echoes by the game’s end through the side-scrolling “quick menu,” at least you now have a proper pause menu to equip echoes when you want to. Still, I think a great way to solve this would’ve been a better allocation of controller buttons so that we could’ve had two or three buttons dedicated to multiple echoes rather than only one. Having to swap between echoes constantly due to our limited buttons dedicated to them was a definite pain and one of the biggest flaws in the game.

But, even with these criticisms, I felt like the overall gameplay experience with Echoes of Wisdom was fantastic! Yes, there were moments I absolutely wanted to chuck my controller out the window for repeated issues occurring in crucial moments. But for the great majority of my time spent playing this game, I was very happy. From solving mind-bending puzzles to seeing my army of echoes wreck enemy faces, I thoroughly enjoyed how this game played.

---

Echoes of Music

This game brings its own musical compositions and twists, reflecting its originality but also its ties previous games in the Zelda series. You’ll be hearing new tunes in familiar places, but if you listen closely enough, you’ll hear references and traces to classic tunes associated with those locales. From Hyrule Castle to the Ranch to Kakariko Village, you’ll find notes of familiarity amongst engaging new tracks that, for the most part, fit this game’s tone and mood very well.

One track I want to bring particular attention to is the overworld track. It’s based on the game’s main theme, which is already a banger. Then, in the second half of the game, once Zelda is free to wander about without concealing her identity, the track is redone with an intro containing an upbeat version of Zelda’s Lullaby before transitioning back into the reprise of the main theme once more. I feel this is a fantastic way of not only varying one of the tracks you’ll be hearing most often but also showcasing the progression of the game’s plot.

Moreover, I’m just happy to have an overworld/field theme that has that bombastic Zelda feel that I’ve been missing since before Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom. It truly conveys that grandiose sense of adventure that I adore about Zelda games.

At the same time, I can’t say the atmospheric pieces aren’t also memorable, as the Stilled World theme is tense, creepy, and subdued, suiting that world and its void-like presence perfectly. It’s certainly a highlight for me as well.

I have to say, though, my favourites are the new dungeon themes. I’ve always been partial to the music of dungeons, but that’s also meant that I’ve come to expect more of them. Thankfully, this game delivers with them in particular, with my notable favourites being the Gerudo Sanctum and Eldin Temple themes, both of which feature some fantastic violin-work.

It’s safe to say that I’ll be listening to this soundtrack for a while and integrating this game’s tunes into my Zelda D&D campaign.

---

An Echoed Story

For a new, original 2D title, I will admit I was not expecting such revelations relating to overall Zelda lore. Like a lot of one-off Zelda projects, which I had written this game off as being, I expected this game to have a relatively simple plot with a greater focus on gameplay and a reuse of old plot ideas and villains. Such has been Nintendo’s philosophy toward Zelda games for a while, and I expected Echoes of Wisdom to conform to this ideology as well.

Colour me surprised when this game debuted a great story with a whole new villain whose scale I don’t think we’ve ever seen in a Zelda game previously.

Ah, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

I do love how we begin the story as many a Zelda game might end: as Link finding Zelda and defeating Ganon to rescue her. This was a great way to not only tutorialize the start of the game but also to introduce us to two of the principal characters while also tying us back to previous Zelda games.

Following a quick escape as Zelda once she’s freed and Link is lost to one of the rifts, we find ourselves finally loose on the world as criminal-branded Zelda, along with her new companion Tri, finding that the rifts can not only take people, but spawn dark imposters of them, a theme we’ll see recurring throughout the game. From there, narratively speaking, we follow a fairly typical Zelda formula: we visit regions and complete dungeons there to help the residents of each area dealing with a particular calamity. Only this time, the calamity is a universal one they’re all dealing with, but with each with a unique wrinkle, courtesy of the rifts’ ability to spawn imposters.

From a surface level, the above formula seems pretty on-brand for Zelda. The main difference is how we go about it. Besides the obvious gameplay differences I listed in a previous section, we also get a brief, simple, though ultimately interesting story involving Zelda and each resident culture from these regions. The first ones we deal with in earnest are the Gerudo and the Zora, with our choice of which of the two to tackle first after we’ve finished our “tutorial” in Suthorn Woods.

I do like the Gerudo’s take on the classic “traitorous vizier” centred storyline, with Facette, who is eventually revealed to be an imposter, giving poor directions to the Gerudo Chieftan, Seera. Meanwhile, Dohna, the chief’s daughter and head of Gerudo soldiers, is attempting to solve problems along with Zelda. Getting a clone reveal of Facette and the subsequent merciless actions by Seera to dispatch the imposter was a great and far more decisive action than I expected from a Zelda NPC. Let’s just say, I’m a fan of both her and Dohna.

Meanwhile, over in Jabul Waters, we have two Zora tribes: the River and Sea Zora. I was stoked to see both types of Zora getting representation in one game. I love the idea of the two contrasting tribes having their own traditions and perspectives through the two chiefs, Dradd and Kushara. Navigating the waters of both Zora Cove and the rivers, not to mention the waters of the chiefs’ tumultuous relationship, was engaging, especially when it came to dealing with the raging Jabu-Jabu, who turned out to be an imposter as well. Having Jabu’s antics be disguised as displeasure at having their den consumed by a rift was a decent red herring for the true cause, though it wasn’t that hard to see what the real deal was.

In the end, having the Zora chiefs reconcile and play their song together to access the den was a heartwarming moment, with that cutscene in particular really driving that point home.

With those two problems resolved, two major rifts sealed, and two of three victims from Hyrule Castle rescued, we brought about the game’s second venture into Hyrule Castle and the mid-game twist. As it turns out, Ganon was never the threat here, as he was just an echo created by something far older and far more malevolent. It’s not Demise, but a being that could be put on par in both age—and potentially power—with the three Golden Goddesses: a void being named Null.

As we learn shortly after this, Null is a being who existed in the nothingness before creation but was dismayed when the goddesses made the world and imprisoned Null inside it. Continuously spawning rifts consuming places and people (something that was established to be happening long before this game began and the canonical reason for this incarnation of Link’s muteness), prompted the Goddesses to create Tri’s people to mend and contain the rifts. Unfortunately, now, Null has now-taken Link and imprisoned the Goddesses in the three lands of their namesakes: Faron, Lanayru, and Eldin. Naturally, it falls to the newly exonerated Zelda, the newly dubbed priestess, to put things right and rescue Link… for a change. Oh, and we also need to free the goddesses to find this “Prime Energy” that might help us.

From there, we choose to attend to any of the three areas first. I chose Faron first, though I feel, in retrospect, Eldin was probably the most natural first choice. Regardless, we got to visit the wetlands and all the Deku Scrubs who, much like the Gorons of Tears of the Kingdom, find themselves amid a cultural addiction. This time, it’s the spider webs spawned by the rifts in their region, which they’re eating as cotton candy on sticks. I’m not sure if this recent trend of addictive foods in Zelda games is indicative of Nintendo taking an active interest in making allegories to help kids say no to drugs, but two such cases in a row can’t be a coincidence. Funnily, this one is also framed as a cautionary tale against following trends blindly, as the Deku Scrubs seem to be epitomizing popular kids trying to stay popular by any means.

Either way, through doing small tasks throughout the region, we managed to access the temple, now swathed in the biggest rift in the region, and tackle the dungeon to take out the latest incarnation of Gohma. While interesting, I feel this regional story is one of the weaker ones in the game due to us not connecting to a particular individual or individuals through it, but all the same, the game’s charm is on full display throughout, with a lot of comedic bits coming through here strongly.

On Eldin Volcano, we have to deal with the fallout of the rifts while helping a newly minted Goron chief in Darston. The poor lad is coming to terms with his new role, relying on the 56 teachings of his recently-passed father in tablet form, leaving him paralyzed with indecision during this unprecedented crisis. Through rescuing two elders and traversing a secret path all chiefs must undertake to reach the volcano’s crater, he gains some level of confidence and recognizes that he must rely on his own perspectives and ideas to become a fully realized chief. While we don’t really get enough time with him to feel like this newfound confidence is fully developed or earned narratively, it’s nice to see the effort made. In any case, I do like him better than Yunobo, effectively his equivalent in terms of role in the 3D Switch games.

Regardless, we take on the Eldin Temple, and after its myriad tense and heated challenges we get to face… holy shit, Volvagia! You’re back! I was not expecting to see a new Volvagia, but it was a fun fight and a good conclusion to the dungeon and the region as a whole.

Lastly, I visited the Holy Mt. Lanayru, by and far the most desolate (even compared to the desert) and least populated area in the game. The only resident there is a Yeti named Conde, easily a contender for the character who wears his heart on his sleeve the most in the entire franchise. With a series of fun and sometimes bittersweet encounters with him as we travel up the mountain, we discover he once had a father who has since passed on and a brother who is travelling the world on an adventure. However, he believes he’s returned as we see something akin to him going up the mountain ahead of Conde. In one of the more, if not the most, heartbreaking moments in the game, we hear—thankfully not see—said supposed brother strike Conde and continue up the mountain.

We follow this unknown yeti into the Stilled World, finding out through a mural that Conde’s brother doesn’t hate him, and he is in fact excited to take him on an adventure someday, leading us with some new motivation (aside from saving the region) to delve into Lanayru Temple and confront the beast. Naturally, we discover that the beast is not Conde’s brother—though I’m as of yet unsure if it's an echo of him or not or just something that resembles him—and defeat them in a great boss battle. Following that, in another touching moment, we get to deliver the good news to Conde, that his brother is still out there adventuring and thinks the world of him.

Finally, with the power of all three goddesses on our side, we make ready to go to the Eternal Forest, but not before Null creates an echo of us, the perfect agent to infiltrate the resting place of the Prime Energy.

After some comical buffoonery of one of the Castle NPCs we rescued earlier in the game and the briefest of conversations with the Deku Tree, we catch up to the echo of Zelda and find that the Prime Energy is nothing less than the Triforce. At this point, I’m unsure if it was named that to throw us off the true nature of the power or if there’s some significance to the “Prime Energy” name. I’ve heard some people speculate that it’s called that so the Triforce can get its name from our companion Tri as a result of her role in this game. If this game sits where I think it does in the timeline, that explanation doesn’t make sense to me, but I’m not too concerned with the logistics of that as far as this game’s plot goes.

In any case, as often happens with the Triforce when someone impure and out-of-balance touches it, it splits—though kudos to the worrisome cutscene where it seems to radiate dark power before stopping and splitting, I appreciate a very tense moment like that—with the Triforce of Power coming to rest with Null’s Zelda echo, Wisdom with Zelda herself, and Courage going to Link imprisoned in the Stilled World. After a brief pursuit through said dimension, we finally get our battle with our echo, and a fun one at that! Once defeated, the Zelda echo retreats into the Null’s main body, a horrifying dark mass, and we finally free Link—I did so in the same way he did us at the start of the game: with a single arrow. Man, I love things coming full circle!

With an awesome cooperative segment with Link through Null’s ghastly body, we finally make our way to the final boss, Null itself, who has a startingly familiar appearance, seeming to have taken on aspects of Tri’s people, who have been largely their jailer for aeons. This seems perfect to me, considering the echo power they possess. Considering, throughout the fight, we see imprisoned members of Tri’s race both in its grasp and throughout its body, this seems like a great way to reveal their true, domineering or even parasitic nature.

The final boss fight was a spectacle and a ton of fun. I loved yanking on Null’s arms, only to have Link leap into a flying spin attack to sever said arm. The whole encounter left me absolutely thrilled as it ended with Link and Zelda both making that final pull to yank the Triforce of Power from Null’s form.

Null’s dying breath rattling with a need for more power to overcome the Goddesses’ perceived wrongdoings against them was fantastic, giving me light chills at the pure hunger and desperation of this primordial being. This is probably one of the best-done villains the franchise has conjured in a long time, and I’m wholly surprised it was devised for a 2D game that probably took a fraction of the time that the 3D games did. While I’ve seen far more complex villains in other media, this is a big step up from the simple, nearly one-dimensional incarnations of Ganon or Ganondorf we’ve seen recently (the exception being Ganondorf’s Wind Waker incarnation—I still think he's fantastic and I hope he gets that level of depth again someday).

We get a bittersweet ending with Tri departing from us as they reminisce on what they’ve learned of the nature of the people in Hyrule, especially in their gratitude toward Zelda. The reprise of the “thank you” notion from earlier in the game hit particularly hard, and I have to say, I had my hand over my heart “aww”-ing in that moment.

With Link and Zelda returning to Castletown, the citizens coming out to celebrate us, including the King and his formerly missing advisors, was wonderful, and getting to see Link speak for the first time since… who knows how long, provoking everyone’s shocked expressions, was a great moment to cap off the story before Zelda’s wistful look into the sky to where Tri vanished. This was only made better by the credits roll showing everyone in the wake of the events—including Conde’s brother coming back in his balloon! Heck yeah—and the final post-credits scene showing the framed Tri Rod enshrined on Zelda’s wall. What a brilliant, heartfelt ending!

As a story, Echoes of Wisdom wasn’t an epic for the ages, but it was a story told wonderfully and a return to form after some worrisome practices had crept into Zelda’s storytelling in the last two games. This game saw the—heh—wisdom in correcting previous games’ errors and opted to design their world and gameplay to cooperate with their story. While it’s not as narratively innovative as other games I’ve seen and played, it’s good to see the Zelda series bouncing back in this department.

In terms of characterization, Princess Zelda, of course, suffers from Zelda protagonist syndrome in that they don’t get much characterization besides a few great expressions drawn on her face during key moments. That said, such is a price to pay for seeing our girl finally get to be the active agent in the legend of her namesake. This doesn’t lessen the poignant emotions I felt at the end of the game with Zelda’s sadness on Tri’s departure. Like the departure of companions of Navi, Midna, and Fi from Link before, sometimes, we don’t need to speech to know there’s deep-rooted feelings there.

And on Tri’s side of things, I appreciate Tri having been characterized as a being unfamiliar with Hyrulean traditions, expressions, emotions, and ideas. It gave her a few funny and interesting moments to dissect the nature of human emotions involved in this game, not to mention the aforementioned “thank you” moment at the end.

Besides this, supporting characters got to have a few moments here and there, but they were few and fleeting and rarely recurred outside their regions besides when we revisited them for additional side quests. Still, the fact they’re there and had an impact made the story and world feel just that bit more whole than it otherwise could’ve been.

Overall, this game’s story was a wonderful surprise, and I’ll be continuing to mull it over time goes on. And I’ll likely learn and gain new perspectives on it as I consume more media about the game in the near future.

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A Reflected Echo

So, in the wake of the Echoes of Wisdom and all these reflections on it, what’s my final verdict on it?

While I’ve had plenty to say about what the game needs to do to improve, I feel all my complaints are rather diminutive in the face of its accomplishments. It looks great, sounds great, plays great, tells a wonderful story, and does fun things both new and old that blend the best of old and new philosophies in the Zelda franchise. This marriage of ideas is something I hope Nintendo and its partners iterate on to create better and ever-evolving Zelda games.

Nintendo seems to be learning from some of its mistakes in Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom, and I’m truly grateful for that. In some ways, it’s still not quite up to the standards other games set in the industry, but in other ways, it exceeds them. So much attention to detail and quality has clearly been paid to this game, and I hope to see that attention continue to help refine the series further.

In the end, I’m glad Zelda’s first outing as a proper protagonist went so well. There was an underlying fear I had going into this game that the game wouldn’t receive the attention and love it deserved from the developers because it didn’t feature Link or because it wasn’t a proper 3D Zelda game. In the wake of Princess Peach: Showtime being received less-than-favourably, I couldn’t put the worrisome idea that Echoes of Wisdom could suffer a similar fate. Thankfully, I was proven wrong, and Zelda got to be the hero she deserved to be after carrying the franchise’s title decades.

Well done, Princess Zelda! You saved Hyrule, the world, and have set a new precedent for your character moving forward.

Now, after that final segment of the game leading up to the final boss battle, not to mention the battle itself, Nintendo has demonstrated that they can make a co-op Legend of Zelda game featuring both Link and the titular princess. I’m expecting you to come up with something great for us, devs! My Zelink-shipping-heart is depending on it!

[avitus-ostrander]

5 comfort characters & 5 tags

Thank you @sonderlativ​ for the tag

#1 - Varis zos Galvus (Final Fantasy XIV) 

Many of my favorite characters are not necessarily comforting. I do not handle character death exceptionally well. After being brutally emotionally tortured by Blizzard for years as they slowly and agonizingly character assassinated and killed off a character I loved (who at the time was a comfort character, helping me recover from another character death), I was left unable to get attached to anyone. 

Enter Varis.

I remember finishing the ARR MSQ and seeing him show up and thinking “ooh the new emperor is really attractive…” and that was kind of fun. I hadn’t experienced that sort of instant pull to a character in quite some time. It still took an act of will to allow myself to actually get attached to him. And then, after some agonizing, I decided to ship my player character, Aurelien, with him. This was the most self-indulgent thing I had ever allowed myself to do. 

He also got me back into drawing after a multi-year hiatus. If anyone wants to see some random shipping pics, they can be found here. 

He’s a serious, dedicated, deeply flawed person, and I love him immensely. Also, his relationship with my OC is possibly the only ‘healthy’ relationship I have ever written. 

#2 - Millions Knives (Trigun)

This will come as a surprise to (probably) no one who is following me here. 

So I’d been having a pretty difficult time and was struggling a lot. I’d pretty much given up on being alive and was just mindlessly counting down the days. 

Then my best friend suggested we give Trigun Stampede a try. I was skeptical, because reboots often burn me and Trigun was something I loved from my childhood, but I figured if it sucked we could hit the bricks. 

When Knives showed up and announced his presence by playing the piano, I completely lost my mind. I instantly felt something I had not felt in SO LONG. I regained the will to live. I felt EXCITED to be alive again. 

I really tried to fight it for a few days, but I couldn’t. I gave myself an undercut. I smiled uncontrollably at any mention of anything even tangentially related to him. Hearing a single note from a piano made me feel like I was going to faint from joy. Finally, I confessed to my best friend that I was deeply obsessed. 

The reason he does not make the number 1 spot is because this fixation has come with some serious emotional upheaval, as I evaluate some of my unresolved issues that I see reflected in him. And also, Varis is such a minor character that I just didn’t see that much negativity about him. Knives is in the spotlight a lot more, so it can be more challenging to just casually indulge without running into people who hate him. 

No one has to like him and I can see why some people wouldn’t, but he brought me back to life and sometimes I just want to be able to feel happy about that.

[Honorable mention here goes to Legato for helping me through my Knives-based angst when it comes around. He was my favorite from Trigun in my youth and one of two characters I built a character shrine for (if anyone remembers those).]

# 3 - Erwin Smith (Attack on Titan)

This one is a bit more obscure in its reasoning. Levi was actually my favorite character in Attack on Titan, but I wrote this figure skating/hockey AU where Erwin is arguably the best figure skater in the world and, just before he can prove this in competition, he gets injured and has to give up his dream. 

Years later, a bitter and aimless Erwin discovers Levi, who is participating in underground murder hockey tournaments, and decides to take him under his wing. Erwin regains his sense of purpose. Levi stops risking life and limb on a daily basis. And I got insanely attached to Erwin while working on this crazy AU. 

There was a comic I was working on for the prologue for it, but I only got 3 and a half pages in, because I couldn’t figure out how to render the climactic scene. (for those interested: pg 1, pg 2, pg 3) 

#4 - Yuri Plisetsky (Yuri!!! on Ice)

I swear I don’t exclusively like angry blondes… 

But I might (almost) exclusively have them as comfort characters. 

Yuri on Ice is in general one of my comfort shows. I’ve loved figure skating since forever, so an anime about figure skating was a dream come true! It doesn’t hurt that the main characters are adorable. 

But this mega grouch was my favorite. He is angry and standoffish, but really soft on the inside. And he’s an incredible skater. What more could I ask for? 

(Everyone should brace themselves for the potential that everyone on this list will be drawn skating at some point, if they haven’t been already) 

#5 - Malokh Skullsplitter & Auralion Duskwither (World of Warcraft)

So these two are OCs. As such, I don’t have any great color pictures of them. I started coloring this one, but it’s stuck on a tablet that needs fixing. All of my other pictures of these two are even more outdated, so this will have to do.

I haven’t played WoW in ages and am not sure I ever will again, but I still love my characters dearly. 

Aura is a Blood Elf shadow priest. Malokh is an Orc warrior. 

Anyway, Auralion has been my absolute favorite OC for about… 13+ years now? Like everyone else on this list, he is an angry blonde. He’s also a (very slightly) older twin. When I don’t have a current obsession, I draw/write stuff about him. This is not his proper hair. This is his hair growing back after he was nearly incinerated. Here is a picture of how his hair normally looks. 

While Aura embodies a lot of my struggles and I channel a lot of my angst into him, Malokh embodies a lot of the things I feel like I need. It’s about to get kind of personal here so feel free to skip to the end… 

As a little kid, I had the misfortune of simultaneously finding out that death was a thing and that it could be violent and terrible, and I never felt safe again. My parents comforted me by telling me that I was not important enough to murder, and my takeaway was “these people won’t and can’t defend me.” So I decided I would be the person to defend the family. I became a very aggressive, very cruel person because I didn’t feel safe unless I was the worst person in the room. 

But really, all I wanted was for someone to say they would protect me. 

Malokh embodies all the things I wanted as a kid. He is fiercely loyal, compassionate, intelligent, patient, and he would absolutely wreck anyone who threatened the people he loves. 

I have loved orcs since I was a little kid and first played the original Warcraft RTS game. There was something very comforting to me about being so big and strong that you didn’t really have to be afraid of humans. 

I ship him and Aura in the red quadrant (because I do Homestuck style shipping for some of my OCs). 

And Malokh has black hair, so he breaks the pattern!

Anyway, tagging: @skuppycake​, @dragonofeternal​, @evilgeometry​, @setsuntamew​, @arahith​

No pressure if anyone does not want to do this or doesn’t have time! I tried to message everyone to make sure it was okay, but I am not sure if all of the messages got through. I was getting a lot of ‘message not sent’ errors and lately when I try to comment on posts it takes multiple tries for anything to show up.

[sintreaties]

Let's be real u love the anon who asked u lots of question right?

Allow me to thank you for this question, because it gave me the chance to speak about something that’s been intriguing me for a while (albeit it’s more of a personal reflection, rather than a conversation with you specifically).

I’ve been answering anon asks for years and because this was my first experience being active in fandom spaces, I’ve come to consider it as a sort of social experiment.

To answer your question: no, I do not enjoy the last few asks. I don’t appreciate when people don’t take the hint and keep sending them.

In part, of course, it’s because I’ve grown tired. Tired of Kakegurui, but also of some of its fans. The asks I used to receive were also much more engaging and some were actually quite funny! Some anons were nice enough to come here just to share something they enjoyed, something unrelated to KKG, because they thought that I’d enjoy it too. I appreciate those anons a lot and I hope they’re having a nice day, just like the anons who reached out to talk about my fics and discuss what they liked or disliked about them.

I can’t remember if I mentioned it here, but for me, the anons of this blog are the equivalent of strangers stopping me in the streets while I’m minding my business. Some people ask for directions (meaning, some come here asking for writing advice and such) and if I can help them, it is my pleasure to do so. Some people come up to me to strike a conversation, and although I don’t always have the patience or the interest to indulge them, I do my best to reply.

And then there’s… the others.

Those are the ones that puzzle me. I don’t take what they say personally, nor do I give it much weight, because in the end, they’re still just strangers on the internet, but I’m still genuinely curious about why they do the things they do. It’s not like I’ve lost sleep over it but even as a writer, I’m very, very interested in understanding this kind of humanity. Everything has a reason, if you care to search for it.

So those anons, right. Some of them don’t even follow me: Why are they here?

Of course, one of the reasons is that this is an open space. You can come in, do your thing, get out. I’ll never know who you are so you don’t really feel like there’s going to be any substantial consequence to what you say.

There’s this quote by Robert A. Caro that goes, “When you have enough power to do what you always wanted to do, then you’re really gonna see what you always wanted to do.”

So you have the power to be rude, and stupid and nonsensical, right?

But why would you do it?

Like, if someone was to tell me “Hey, I don’t appreciate your avances”, well, I wouldn’t send them this kind of stuff:

I’d feel like a loser, you see? I’d show no manners to the person who’s repeatedly said that they don’t appreciate this kind of messages (most importantly when those who send them are really trying to get my cell number!!!) and I’d also show such an incredible loneliness and hopelessness that I couldn’t help but be ashamed of myself.

Plus you’re doing this where everyone can see you! You’re on anon yes, but you know that you’re the one who wrote that stupid, rude or nonsensical ask. How can you not be embarassed about it? I suppose you’re either dumb enough to lack self-awareness or you’re so insecure that you’re much beyond that to torture yourself with silly concepts like dignity and self-respect.

I don’t mean it as an insult, really, I’m just trying to draw my own conclusions here. My power fantasy is to be a good, kind, interesting person in a community of equally good and nice and interesting people and yours is… this? Why?

Reading some of these asks feels like getting a glimpse of someone’s intrusive thoughts. You can tell that they didn’t stop to think before sending them. My mutuals have to thank me, because despite what I’ve been told recently by a friend, I still spare them the worst ones (which, curiously, have only really started to appear recently). This kind of stuff gives me such bad second-hand embarassment that if I try to put myself in the anon’s shoes I deal myself psychic damage.

Most of those people don’t even come to me because I’m Sintreaties and they have a problem specifically with Sintreaties. The problematic anons either disregard or forget the fact that they’re real, living people talking to another real, living person — who, incidentally, has nothing to do with them.

And it’s incredible, because again, I wouldn’t be able to act like some of you! Sometimes it helps to think that no matter how many times I’ve hit rock bottom, I’ve never sent anon hate nor have I ever harrassed someone online just because I could. But then, even in videogames I never pick the “bad route”. What’s the fun in that? If I have to be mean and pick a fight with someone, hell, let it be a fight that can win me something more than whatever you get from arguing with Twitter users.

In the end, the question for me isn’t “why are you doing this to me”.

For me, the question becomes: why are you doing this to yourselves?

Bro, go for a walk! Talk to your friends, and if you’ve got none, go ahead and make some! Go for a coffee all by yourself and joke with the guy at the counter! Jesus Christ man, you can do better than waste your time sending that kind of asks to a random person on the internet! You show so little self-love that I can’t help but feel compassion. Where’s your dignity? Where’s your self-respect, the innate, human drive that pushes us to be better, no matter what? If you’re so lonely and insecure, do something about it! The world is full of people who wish to be your friend and to know you for who you are. Take care of yourself, for god’s sake!

“Lighten up, it’s not that deep” — for some of you, yeah. We’re talking about the same people who can barely read and comprehend a manga, I don’t expect them to understand my point.

(And I don’t mean it as a “look at me, I am so superior to you, because I actually use my head to think things critically and I’m still in touch with my emotions even in online settings.”)

For you it’s just one or two weird asks. Since 2019, I’ve received hundreds of them.

Again, I’m still relatively new to fandom. I’ve “only” been around for a few years and I’ve mostly only interacted with KKG fans. I’ve also always tried to curate my experience, which is already lacking on its own compared to someone who’s been around for decades. On that note, I wonder if some older, more experienced users would like to share their opinions on the matter — on anon too, or course.

I still want to keep my askbox open, because some anons really have something new and interesting to bring to the table. Remember though: it’s not 2020 anymore. From now on, I really do suggest thinking well about an ask before sending it.

And on a final note, I’m told that one of my asks made it to the KKG struggles account on Twitter so I’d personally like to thank and shake hands with all the anons that made it possible🤝🍾🎉

[that-is-just-so-typically-me]

Today in a low moment I felt really tempted to engage in a habit I’ve been trying to unlearn and ideally stop, because it’s self-harmful and actively prevents me from achieving something I know that I want for myself in the long-term. But suddenly in my mine’s eye I saw myself the last (thousand) times I did it, feeling so many negative feelings, mostly helplessness and like what I know to be good for me was impossible for me to fight my urges to achieve. I suddenly felt a reframing of that old song and dance in my head: that I do not trust myself. I’ve rarely put language to such feelings, though I know I have struggled with immense self-doubt most of my life. It just hit me all of the sudden as I was fighting this urge that I could understand this as almost if there were a triumvirate within me: the one who feels the urge, the one who hurts when I indulge in it, and the one who knows that I will hurt far worse later by indulging than I will hurt right now by abstaining. That last voice was speaking to me (like, metaphorically, to be super clear) saying, “But you promised you wouldn’t do that to her”. And it felt like if I indulged, that voice would turn to that hurt-self now bracing for impact and say “See? I told you we couldn’t trust them.” Which like, probably just sounds like another way in which my internalized shame manifests itself, but it’s really just guilt, in the sense that shame is purely harmful, but guilt is useful in that it lets us know we acted against our personal values. Sitting in this new vantage point, I immediately felt quite a bit more empowered to fight back against that urge. I didn’t indulge. I suppose it could be a way to allow me to act from the part of me that is capable of an incredible sense of duty to keep my word and to avoid harming those I love. Theoretically, if I could do, and did, something that made a friend feel as terrible as I end up feeling when I indulge in that self-harming habit, I would be devastated and NEVER do that thing again. But I make myself feel that way all the time, and I just keep on doing it over and over. Of course I don’t trust myself - I rarely do anything to earn my own trust when it comes to things like this. There’s this huge part of me that knows it’s in a position of vulnerability when it comes to self-harmful habits of mine, because it knows I’ll choose the self-harm almost every time. And I know the dissonance between how I trust myself to not hurt others and how I don’t trust myself not to hurt myself is all because I simply do not place value and worth on myself the way I do others. Even as I write this I am realizing that is why I self-harm (I mean, in my treatment of myself and usually not literally) more when I have been rejected or abandoned, or when I experience a similar blow to my self-esteem from someone else. Those times are when I devalue myself the most. But maybe this might be Trojan horse - sort of tricking myself by externalizing and othering that inner self that deserves my best behavior, that deserves to trust that I’m not going to be self-harmful. There is such an innate strength to my ability to show up for those I feel beholden to - and I have to find out how I can feel so beholden to myself one way or the other. It’s something to talk to my therapist about at least 💚 I have already gained so much by getting over my discomfort with “inner child” work, and though it feels strange and a bit unnerving to view yourself as somewhat an exclusive entity unto itself, I suppose that’ll always start off as an alien feeling when you’ve spent your whole life neglecting your internal concept in favor of centering that of others. So far I’ve integrated a lot of my “healed inner child” (still a little embarrassing for me somehow?) into my sense of self, to the extent that I seldom still think of my self-work as me and “my inner child” - mostly just me. So maybe if I go forward with this mindset, one day it’ll happen organically and without all of this inner mind theatre, haha.

[hoveringisles]

JULES DE LANCRE

As a child i used to steal my brother’s clothes and pretend i was him. I would hope our parents wouldn’t tell us apart but they always did. Sure, they would indulge me a little but the game always had to end before dinner. I remember the disappointment but also the sadness that followed everytime it ended. One day, i went too far and cut my hair. Dad didn’t blink. Mom was furious. Julian stepped in and took the blame. He was grounded for a month. I thanked him but we never spoke of the incident. And I never played that game ever again. 

I used to love dancing as a child and then mom introduced me to ballet. I entered a world of excessive femininity as well as performativity. I didn’t like the way the leotard highlighted my developing breast but mom was finally paying attention to me and that was all that mattered. She would drive me everyday after school and talk to her friends, saying how proud of me she was. That felt good. Mom and i shared something, just like Dad and Julian. 

I made friends along the way. We used to challenge each other and share our diets and training routines. Skipping desserts, having protein bars instead of breakfast. One day, my bestfriend Charlotte and i auditioned for Swan Lake. I landed the role of Odette while she got Odile’s part. I could tell she was upset. She had hoped Vincent (her crush), who auditioned  for Prince Siegfried, would be her prince on stage. Turned out our dance director thought i would be the best fit for Odette cause we both shared an introverted nature while Charlotte was very much extroverted. 

I wanted to drop out and let Charlotte be Odette but mom had already heard the news and was so happy she threw me a party to celebrate. 

I couldn’t back down. 

I couldn’t disappoint her. 

That’s when things started to deteriorate between Charlotte and i. Vince and i spent lots of time rehearsing together for the show. We needed to work on our chemistry, like the director said. Unlike most of the people my age, i hadn’t dated anyone yet so simulating attraction for the eyes of the public was no easy task. 

tw : this part of the story contains triggering topics such as sexual assault, bullying, slut-shaming, eating disorder and body dysmorphia.

One night after our rehearsal, Vince asked if he could drive me home, saying that he’d love to discuss our characters. I’ve always enjoyed discussing fictional characters and he knew that. I didn’t think there was something wrong with that. Just two friends discussing their characters for the upcoming show. Vince was brilliant and so nice and i really enjoyed our conversations. As soon as we got into the car, he started to talk about chemistry, our chemistry. I panicked. I knew Charlotte had a huge crush on him and that she would never forgive me if anything happened. I also didn’t feel for him that way. So i tried opening the door but he quickly locked it up. I told him to let me go. He didn’t listen. He grabbed me and kissed me, running his hands under my shirt, touching my breast. That’s when my fight response kicked in. I managed to kick him in the nuts and unlocked the door. I ran as fast as i could. He didn’t chase me. He shouted “You’re gonna regret it, bitch!“ 

I didn’t tell anyone. Not even Julian.

I was ashamed. I felt like I should’ve said no from the start. I was blaming myself for it. I convinced myself that maybe it was my fault. Maybe i was asking for it in a way. I mean, spending that much time alone with him while wearing only leotards and tights… Was he really the one to blame ? 

The next day, I noticed people were whispering behind my back and looking at me whenever I entered a room. I didn’t see Charlotte until lunch time and as i was about to sit down at my usual place next to her she said “Go find somewhere else to sit, whore.” That day, i didn’t eat lunch. I couldn’t stand seeing all those eyes on me at the cafeteria. I spent the whole lunch at the library. Food wasn’t allowed there. 

The same day, i quit dance class. Mom wasn’t happy with that. She asked for an explanation but i had nothing to say for myself. 

After two weeks without having lunch, I thought that maybe i didn’t need snacks or breakfast either. 

I didn’t care about not having friends anymore. All I cared about was making it through another day without eating. 

When everything around me was falling apart, my body became my anchor. 

I let them smear my name as they pleased. Call me a whore, a bitch. 

I didn’t care anymore. 

For once, i was in control. 

Months went by. I noticed my chest was getting more and more flat which reminded me of how good i felt before puberty hit. My body was changing and my curves were disappearing. I also didn’t get my period anymore. And that felt like a good thing. This meant my body would never be altered by pregnancy. 

Then, summer break was here. I enrolled myself in a dance summer camp. Mom was very happy i was dancing again. Although, the only reason i joined it was so i could keep my special diet. Julian wasn’t completely blind. He knew something was going on. He was questioning me, pushing food my way every so often. Staying away from home was the only way i could keep being in control.   

Then one day my body shut down before a competition. Julian found me unconscious backstage. He said he has had this gut feeling that something was wrong. I woke up at the hospital. Julian by my side. Dad was talking to the doctor. Mom was nowhere to be found. 

My diagnostic : anorexia nervosa. I didn’t want to believe i was sick. I didn’t want to believe i had lost control. Control was all i had left. A few days later,  i was back home. Mom barely looked at me. My parents got me out of school, thinking that was the problem. I wouldn’t cooperate much in my own recovery because i didn’t think i had something to recover from. Though I cooperated enough so that my parents would send me to another school, so i could keep spending my lunch break at the library where food wasn’t allowed. 

Changing school gave me a fresh start. I made new friends while keeping my rule book. Although, lots of activities they invited me to were centered around food so i would decline them. Eventually, they stopped inviting me. And then talking to me. 

By the time i turned fifteen, i wouldn’t eat my own birthday cake. I stayed in bed all day, pretending to be sick. I missed Julian and i’s birthday party as well as the cake. That evening, i heard a knock on my door. Julian came in, smiling, holding a cupcake with a burning candle on top. I thanked him and said i would eat it later. 

But later never came.

The next day when i got out of the shower, i found him sitting on my bed holding the dry cupcake i had hidden in my nightstand.

“When are you going to stop lying?" 

And we had a fight. It wasn’t like us to fight like that, to lose our temper. And then, he was done arguing. He flat out asked me if i wanted to die. 

I didn’t reply. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me closer to him. We locked gazes. That’s when i saw he was crying, something i haven’t seen him do since we were kids. He held my tiny wrist, waving it in front of my eyes.  

"Look at you, Jules. You’re fading…” He whispered, his voice on the verge of breaking as he let go of my wrist. “Tell me… Tell me you don’t want to die…Please…” He added, placing his hands on my frail shoulders, staring into my now teary eyes.

That day, i fell to my knees and cried at his feets. He sat on the floor and held me tight. I hadn’t realized how much i was hurting him while pursuing my never ending quest for control.

How much i was hurting myself.

And thus began my recovery. I was now homeschooled and on close watch. No more lunch break at the library. I ripped out my rule book and Julian helped me create some new rules. He educated himself and helped Mom and Dad understand.

They still don’t understand though. I’ve gained a few pounds but i still can’t look at my body in the mirror and struggle to eat at times but i know i’m not alone in this. Julian and i are closer than ever but i still can’t bear to tell him the whole story. Maybe one day. 

The beginning of Jules' rp/gender identity journey and how they met Az

As i wasn’t going to school anymore, i decided i would make online friends. I started roleplaying. Most of the time, the rp servers i wanted to join were oversaturated with female characters so i couldn’t get in unless i was playing a male. I named my first character after my brother. For some reason, everyone in the server quickly assumed i was a guy and i kinda went along with it. It was a funny joke, yeah, but it felt also right in a way. I ended up leaving the server cause the admin confessed her love for me and when i said i wasn’t interested in her that way she turned the players against me, saying i was a creepy dude. All because i hurt her ego by politely refusing to be her boyfriend. The poor thing had no idea i wasn’t the prince she fantasized about. Anyway. Move along.

I went months without rping. I stayed in touch with one of my internet friends though. They came out to me as trans. I wasn’t sure what it meant but they explained it to me. I recognized myself in some aspects of being trans. I didn’t see myself as such though. I was certain that to be a true trans person you had to want to change everything that you were born as/with like my friend wished to. That wasn't my case. And so, i didn't dig deeper.

Finally, a new server caught my attention. A Vampires vs Humans war. Sounded like fun ! So i applied for the forgotten vampire heir to the throne. I made them a ftm transgender, adding to the background that they had been disowned because of their gender identity and that the king and queen had made the population believe that humans had killed their child, therefore putting an end to the fragile peace between vampires and humans. I got the part. And suddenly all sorts of queer characters starting popping up on the server. It was amazing ! Though, one of the admins didn’t see it that way. Turns out she was just trying to save faces by being somewhat inclusive. She blamed me for starting the queer trend (as she called it), and i politely told her to go fuck herself cause queer people were not a trend and deserved to be represented. The other admin stepped in and stood with me. They fought and the queerphobe ended up leaving the server.

I felt bad for breaking their friendship so i DMed the other admin saying i was sorry and she replied : “No worries darling. Don’t ever apologize for standing up for what you believe in. I can’t be friends with a queerphobe anyway. We’re better off without her to be honest.”

“Alright. But what about the server, the lore? Are you gonna have to start it all from scratch?”

“That’s basic human decency at that point ;) Not at all. Not to brag but… i kinda wrote it all on my own.”

“You did??”

“Yep!”

“I’m genuinely impressed. Like, i haven’t seen anything like it before and i’m a huge fan of fantasy stuff.”

“Thank you!  I’d like to be a writer.”

“Hold on to that dream, love. I’m sure one day i’ll see your name everywhere !”

“You’re too sweet! I’m Azalea by the way.”

“I love your name ! You can call me Julian. If you want, i can help you manage the server until you find someone else.”

“Thank you ! I love your name too. Sure ! I don’t think i want to find someone else tho. You’re very active here and i can see you truly have the story at heart. I guess what i’m trying to say is… would you like to be admin with me? I’d like this server to be a safe space and i know i can trust you on this. So, what do you say?”

“I’m at your service, love !”

That’s when it all started. Az and i. We took care of the server together and we built storylines for everyone to enjoy. We didn’t hear from that bitch until a month later when we learned of another vampires vs humans rp server, a rip-off of our own. Az started to get hate messages from strangers. Every fucking day. One night, she snapped and did what that bitch wanted from her all along. She closed the server. I knew she wasn’t feeling well and i was too tired to type so i called her with my camera turned off. I didn’t care if she heard my voice. All i cared about was being there for my friend.

I remember how surprised she was to hear my voice and though it sounded feminine she still asked me which pronouns she should use. I hesitated but ended up saying those i'd been raised on and introduced myself as Jules, which had become the only current nickname i had IRL that i was comfortable with. We talked all night long till she finally fell asleep on call. 

WIP

[noteguk]

bad influence | jjk | m

— summary; in which you know Jungkook is a bad influence on you, but you can’t avoid falling for him every time. 

— contents and warnings; pwp, badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, car sex, dirty talk, fingering, hair pulling, breast play, jk has a big dick and an attitude, unprotected sex (condoms are your friends), jk being kind of a douche, use of the word “slut”, cum eating, creampie, cockwarming, possessiveness, he slaps her ass like once, enemies to fuckbuddies pretty much 

— words; 4.5k

— author’s note; I got carried away because I don’t know how to control myself!!! Also bad boy Jungkook is a fucking concept and I’m exhausted. Have fun. //  BAD INFLUENCE COLLECTION

You didn’t even know who you were trying to convince when you told yourself that you wouldn’t fall for Jungkook’s cheap charms anymore because, clearly, that wasn’t working. Every time you saw him, every dumb promise you made in front of the mirror came crumbling down, erasing your defenses along with it. 

That whole “falling for the bad boy” fiasco was really pathetic, and you knew that terribly well. You thought you had prepared yourself well enough to see through that mess of testosterone and leather jackets, of hollow smirks and messy dark hair. You knew better than to get involved with someone that didn’t take anything seriously and, worse, that mocked you for doing the opposite. 

You knew that Jeon Jungkook was nothing but trouble and, yet, you came crawling back to him every single time.  

“Fuck,” he moaned against your mouth, his eyes flickering shut at another roll of your hips. His voice was so deep, so rough, that you felt yourself clenching around nothing, a small whimper dripping from your lips as you pressed your panties against his bulge one more time. “You should wear skirts more often, you look like a sexy schoolgirl.”

You rolled your eyes, struggling to keep your balance on his lap. Straddling him on the driver seat of his car really wasn’t how you thought your night out would end, but it wasn’t all that surprising either. “I fucking hate you sometimes,” you spat.

Jungkook smirked, taking one of his large hands to the back of your head. “Only sometimes? I should try harder, then.”

You were left without a chance to respond because, within a second, he was pressing his lips against yours in a deep, sensual kiss. Jungkook always made out with you like he was about to lose you, like he was drowning and you were his last, desperate gush of air. Jungkook had been the only one who had ever kissed you like that, so messy, but yet so passionate; every curl of his tongue against yours making you melt in his embrace. You, of course, would never tell him how much you liked it, your pride would never allow you to do so.

His palm was firm and hot against your cheek, tilting your head slightly to the side so he could deepen the kiss. His other hand was tenderly placed on your hips, guiding them as you continued to grind against his clothed erection. The air inside his car was so heavy that you felt as if you couldn’t even breathe, only small whimpers echoing between your mouths at the gentle caresses of your clit against the fabric of his pants. 

But, as much as Jungkook was having fun, that grinding session was starting to annoy him a bit. He had been waiting to have you all night — going through the motions of boring bar conversations and brushing off the shameless flirting of other girls — and he wasn’t going to spend his sweet time just dry humping you like you two were horny teenagers. 

So, he took his shot as you raised your hips from his. Before you could move your body down once again, one of his hands traveled beneath the hem of your skirt, his nails pressing down on the skin of your thighs as he made his way towards your pussy. Jungkook had been daydreaming about your cunt wrapping around his cock for far too long then, and he needed to remind himself of how good that felt. 

“Fuck, babygirl, look at you… You’re soaked and I didn’t even touch you yet.” Jungkook smirked wickedly, his fingers faintly tracing its way up and down your clothed folds. You shivered at the contact, biting on your lip to avoid moaning out — he, of course, noticed that. He had quite the natural talent when it came to seeing what made you tick. “Why are you holding back, baby? Afraid that someone will hear you?” 

Your only response was a shaky breath from your nose, the words far too complicated to leave your mouth. Only Jungkook, in all of his great self, was able to make you such a mess so quickly, and you hated your body for being so reactive under his touches. It was the expectation, you noticed, the anticipation of knowing how well he fucked you, of knowing he was only taking his time before ruining you. 

Without hesitation, he pulled your panties to the side and placed two of his fingers between your pussy lips, barely brushing your entrance. Jungkook covered his digits with your wetness and moved them toward your clit, pressing them delicately on your sensitive nub. “I asked you a question, baby.” 

A bit overwhelmed, you breathed out, trying to keep yourself composed. It was almost impossible when it came to him. “Yeah, I don’t want people to know,” you admitted. 

He knew that, of course. It was a common worry amongst the two of you — especially when Jungkook had such a thing when it came to risky places to have sex in. Fucking you in his car, right outside the bar where you two had accidentally ran into each other, was far from being one of the most out-there situations he had created. 

“Hm? Know what?” He continued playing his self-indulgent game, pressing down on your clit. Your body jilted at the contact, mouth parting slightly and hands resting on his broad shoulders as he began slowly moving in circles over your sweet spot. “That pretty little ___ isn’t such a good girl, after all?” 

“J-Jungkook,” his name was a pathetic moan that died on your tongue, barely a whispered plea as he continued his advances on your clit. You had broken down so easy and so fast, you didn’t even remember you had once promised yourself that you would never come back to his bad boy shenanigans. 

But it was so, so hard to keep yourself away from him. You were only human, and Jungkook was this little demon ruining you just a bit more every time. 

“Are you worried that they’ll know that, beneath all those good grades, all those nights spent studying in your room, all that fucking charity work...” His fingers pressed harshly against your clit and your back arched, making you almost hit the steering wheel behind you. The thought of accidentally pressing down the horn made your blood run cold, and you forced yourself to lean back against his chest. “That under all that, you’re still a slut for my cock?” 

Your eyes fluttered shut, pleasure starting to climb up your spine as his voice guided you towards the past. All the times you snuck out during the night, all the times he fucked you raw after just bickering with you in front of your friends. All the times you told everyone that he was just a pile of trouble, and yet you begged for him to bury himself between your thighs until you were crying out his name. Really, it was difficult to find a bratty clapback when he was fucking you senseless, and Jungkook seemed to like that discovery just as much as you. 

And still, sometimes he didn’t like when you didn’t answer him. 

“You’re so shy all of a sudden…” he trailed off, taking one of his hands to pull up your crop top. He didn’t take it off, especially when he knew you’d freak out being topless in a public parking lot, he just needed to have better access to your bra. “You aren’t this quiet when you’re around other people, though. Always mocking me, being so mean…” 

“Don’t play the victim, you do the same to me,” you found the strength to respond, making Jungkook stop his motions on your clit right away. You sighed in frustration, your shoulders falling as you watched him lick his lips. “Why did you stop?”

“I’m waiting,” he said.

“For what?” 

“For an answer, baby.” He smirked. “You’re so mean. You always leave me hanging.” 

“That’s not true,” you said, taking your hands to his nape. There, you played with the strands of his hair, making him groan after a harsh pull. “What’s the question?” 

Jungkook hummed, taking his free hand to your bra and cupping one of your breasts — his other one was still paused, hovering over your clit like an unspoken promise. “Do people know?” He repeated, unclamping your bra with one swift motion and pushing it up along with your top. “Do they know how much of a dirty girl you are?” 

You swallowed hard and pushed your body against his fingers, trying to find some more friction. “I’m not,” you said, but could not believe your own words. “It’s just—“

The lie vanished the second that his lips found your nipple, his velvety tongue coming out to circle around it before he gave you a harsh suck. You pressed yourself closer to his mouth at the contact, and you could no longer hide the needy moan that escaped you — which seemed to satisfy Jungkook. 

“You’re not?” He spoke as he pulled away from your breast. Jungkook’s fingers slithered away from your clit and dove inside your pussy without further warning, making you cry out his name. No matter how many times you touched yourself, your fingers could never compare to his larger ones, making you stretch out so sweetly around them. “So why are you soaking my fingers like this? That’s so filthy, baby...” 

You clenched your teeth. “God, you’re so annoying.” 

“And you’re so wet,” this time, however, the mockery in his voice had faded a bit, giving space to a newfound wave of lust. As much as Jungkook loved to tease you, he was quite fast to break too — and the lewd sounds of your pussy were making him lose his mind. “Are you remembering all the times I fucked you before? All the times I pounded this tight pussy until you were crying? Begging for my cock?” 

God, you could feel as the heat started to spread down your body, guided by his words alone. When you spoke again, your voice wasn’t as firm as you expected. “J-Jungkook, that’s not…”

“Not what, baby?” He interrupted, tilting his head to the side. You hated how clothed he was, but you couldn’t deny that you wanted to ride him like that — in that stupid leather jacket of his. “You didn’t like it?”

“I- I did.” It was getting hard to think when his thick fingers were pumping in and out of you so well. “I loved it.”

Those words left your throat before you could stop yourself, and your heart almost sank when you realized you had actually praised Jungkook, local douchebag, for something. You knew that he wouldn’t let that go anytime soon. “Loved being fucked like a good slut, right?” He asked, moving his fingers faster. You moaned especially loud when he started pushing them apart, scissoring you. 

“Yes,” you gasped, utterly defeated at that point. 

“Hmmm… so let me ask you again, and I expect a direct answer this time,” Jungkook said, leaning his head against the crook of your neck. His voice was a cloud of heat against your skin, vibrating up and down your body. “Do people know that you’re a slut for my cock?”

“No,” you finally responded, fingers digging on his hair. Your pleasure was increasing so fast that you knew it was just a matter of time before you were cumming around his fingers, like you had done so many times before. “Only you know, Jungkook.” 

That seemed to really satisfy him, because it was his turn to grunt against your flesh. The sound of his voice, so hoarse and guttural, made you clench around his fingers. “You’re getting so tight, baby.” He breathed out, unable to hide the desire that coated his words. Jungkook really needed to feel that delicious pussy of yours around his cock before he went insane. “Close?”

This time, your answer didn’t take long to come out. “Yes.”

“I have another question for you,” he started, and you would've rolled your eyes at him if you weren’t so awfully close to your high. “Do you wanna come on my cock or my fingers?”

“Both, please,” you moaned out and rolled your hips against his hand, dignity long forgotten. You wondered what your friends would say if they knew you were pleading for Jungkook, of all people, to make you cum. 

“Not both, you have to pick one.” Jungkook stopped his movements for the second time that night, and you couldn’t help cursing out at the absence of motion. You clenched around his fingers, making a sly smirk spread across his features. “I’m feeling especially greedy tonight.”

“Fuck you,” you said, taking a moment to organize your thoughts. As much as you really, really needed to cum, the idea of not having Jungkook’s dick inside you was much worse than waiting just a few more minutes to have it. “Your cock.”

He smiled and, for a moment, he almost looked innocent. Almost. “I thought so,” Jungkook teased, giving you one final pump of his fingers and watching as you bit your lip at the abrupt feeling. “I know you love it.” 

You scoffed. “You have such an attitude.” 

“Maybe,” Jungkook said as he removed his fingers from your pussy, watching how they shimmered, coated by your wetness. He looked up at you and took his hand towards your mouth. “Let me see you taste it,” he told you, tapping on your bottom lip. Obedient, you opened your mouth for him, allowing for his digits to slither inside. With a whimper, you sucked him like you would his cock, curling your tongue around him in a way that left Jungkook cursing out. “So fucking hot.” 

His eyes were focused on your mouth as he pulled his fingers away from it, swallowing dry at the “pop” sound it made when it left your lips. “Now,” he almost groaned, “let me taste it.” 

Jungkook crashed his mouth on yours, making you moan against his kiss once again. His tongue hungrily danced with yours, searching for your taste as his hands grabbed your ass, pressing you down against his aching member. You never wanted something as much as you wanted to feel him inside you right then, and Jungkook also didn’t want to wait any longer. 

He smirked against your mouth when he heard the sound of his zipper opening, your hands working fast to pull his pants down. “I told you that you love my cock.”

“God,” you complained, pulling at the hem of his pants. Jungkook raised his hips from the seat so you could slide them down, bringing his underwear along with it. “Do you ever stop talking?” 

“Only when you let me eat you out.” His cock had sprung free, resting against his abdomen as your hands moved to grab it. Again, another compliment that you would never give him, but Jungkook had one of the prettiest (and biggest) dicks you had ever seen; already so enlarged and red-tipped, leaking with pre-cum. Just looking at it made you horny, and it wasn’t long before you were taking it in your hand, giving it a few pumps before brushing your thumb over his crown, spreading his wetness all over it. “Fuck, that feels good.” 

The pleasure in his voice almost blinded you for a moment, making you forget what had been your intention in the first place. However, as you felt yourself clenching around nothing, you came back to your senses. 

“I wanna feel your warm little cunt around me, baby,” Jungkook breathed out, watching as your hand continued to pump him. 

“You’re lucky I’m feeling especially nice tonight,” you told him, placing your thighs closer to his center. With a grunt of expectation, Jungkook’s eyes followed as you raised your skirt with one hand and guided his cock towards your heat with the other one. “Ready to make your schoolgirl fantasy come to life?” 

He opened his lips to respond, but his voice was lost the second that you pressed his tip against your opening, coating his cock with your warmness. “Fuck, baby,” he moaned, hands grabbing your ass as you sank down on him. 

“Oh, God,” you whined as you bottomed out, your walls pulsating around him as you got used to his size. No matter how many times he fucked you, you couldn’t get used to his large size and the amazing way he filled you up like no one else could. “Jungkook, you’re so big.” 

That was another comment that, unfortunately, you could not hold back. Because you hated yourself, that was why. “You can take it, baby,” he said, pressing down on your ass. “Be a good girl and take everything.” 

With his added force, you sank down until you had all of him inside you, practically sitting against his thighs by the time you were done. Taken away by the delicious feeling of his thick cock inside you, you started slowly setting a pace, moving up just so you could crash back down; the sound of skin on skin filling the still, muffled atmosphere of his car. 

“Shiiiiit, ____, you’re so tight.” He breathed out heavy, watching the way your bodies connected; the way his dick was coated by your wetness. “I can’t get used to it, it’s the best pussy I’ve ever had.” 

Now it was your time to be carried away by his compliments. It was stupid, but having Jungkook praise you (especially after he spent most of his days making fun of you) had you feeling over the moon. Before you could hold yourself back, you were already setting up a rhythm, bouncing up and down on him in a way that got him seeing stars; moaning in delight every time you rolled your hips on him. 

“Fuck, yeah, ride this cock,” Jungkook groaned, thowing his head back against the seat. His hair was a mess, falling over his eyes and gluing against his sweaty forehead; and yet he looked like sin incarnated as you fucked yourself onto him. Those saliva-coated lips, those furrowed eyebrows, and the deep, hungry gaze that he sent you way every time you sunk down on him would be the death of you. 

Jungkook breathed out as you started to pick up your pace, your hands pressing down on his shoulders as your ass bounced against his thighs. “Such a good slut,” he praised breathlessly, taking one of his hands to brush a strand of hair away from your eyes.  “Such a filthy little thing.” 

Pride forgotten, you knew what he wanted to hear. “O-only for you,” your words were a confusing mess of syllables, mind drunk on the feeling of his big cock pumping in and out of you. Only Jungkook could fill you up like that, only he could make you such a mess so quickly. 

“Oh, I know, baby.” His palm came down heavy against the globe of your ass, stinging your skin and making you cry out in an amazing mixture of pain and desire. You whimpered at the feeling that his slap left behind, your eyes dazed and unfocused as you looked down at the boy. “This pussy is all mine.” 

You called out his name as he started thrusting up, the force of his movements increasing your pleasure immensely. You loved when Jungkook started to get rough with you, when he started to use you like you were just a doll for him to seek his own high. 

He pulled on your hair, making your head tilt backwards and presenting him with a glorious view of your neck. Jungkook groaned against your flesh, his lips and tongue attacking your skin in a way that you knew would leave marks the following day — just the way he liked it. “I want to fuck you forever,” he moaned, “Wanna make this pussy so messy with my cum. Mark it as my own.”

“It’s yours, Jungkook,” you told him, lost in the buildup of your pleasure. “It’s all yours.”

He groaned, and the force of his hips snapping against yours only increased. Weak, you allowed your body to tumble against his strong chest, letting him use you the way he wanted it. 

“Such a tight and wet pussy for me,” he moaned out through clenched teeth. Jungkook looked almost animalistic then, only wanting to fuck you until his stamina ran out. “Say my name, baby.”

“J-Jungkook,” you gasped. 

“Louder,” he hissed, buckling his hips higher. The feeling of his cock thrusting upwards and reaching even deeper inside you got you seeing stars, eyes rolling back and mouth falling open. “I want everyone to hear it. Hear how good I make you feel, hear that this pussy is all mine.” 

Any other time, you would refuse to do something so absurd — but, at that moment, your mind was floating far away from that car, and all that you wanted was to be a good girl for him. “Jungkook!” you called his name louder, moaning out at you felt his cock throbbing inside you. 

“Again,” he rasped out, his jaw clenching. 

“Jungkook, fuck!” You almost yelled out, the world turning into nothing as you continued to fuck yourself on his cock. Moments like those were wonderful: all your problems went away, and you could only focus on the way he made you feel so deliciously full. 

“Ah, that’s it, shit,” he cursed out, member throbbing inside your pussy, “I’m gonna fucking cum.” 

You cried out at the thought, wanting nothing more than to see him cuming because of you. “C-Cum inside me, please.”

“Yeah, baby,” he said, his voice lost in pleasure. You could feel his desperation from the way his hips crashed against yours with much more force, hitting deep inside you. “Take everything.” 

His mind went blank when you clenched around his cock, wiping everything away from him but the delicious feeling of your walls sinking down on him. Jungkook looked like he was in a haze, his eyes unfocused and teeth sinking on his lip, barely watching the way he disappeared inside you. He only needed a bit more to be pushed over the edge. 

“Please, fill me up, Jungkook,” you begged. His eyes darted towards yours, watching your face. He could see that you had tears pooling at the corner of your eyes, a faint heat in your cheeks. God, he had completely ruined you. “Please, I need your cum.” 

And that was it. His orgasm hit him like a tidal wave, a deep groan leaving his throat as he spilled himself inside you, hearing the lewd sounds of your wetness as he continued to thrust up against your pussy. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he cursed, head falling against the seat once more. Jungkook’s eyes closed as he felt the last drops of his cum being milked by you, his mind a jumble of broken words and disconnected ideas. “Oh, fuck, baby, fuck. Take it, baby, fuck...” 

Of course you did as he asked, and you took every drop of his cum until it was starting to spill out of you. You couldn’t even look down, but you were sure that you were a complete mess between your legs. “J-Jungkook, I’m so close,” you cried out, drunk on the feeling of his thrusts. 

“God, that’s it.” He pressed down on your hips, overwhelmed with the feeling of your walls clenching around his sensitive member. Jungkook loved it, though, loved seeing you cum around his cock like it was all that you ever wanted to do; loved watching your face as you looked at him with so much desperation that he almost grunted out. You really were a precious thing. “Make a mess on my fat cock, come on, baby. Let me see you cum for me.” 

His request was like magic to you, and you came right after, calling his name amidst breathy moans and high-pitched whimpers. Jungkook kept whispering in your ear as you rode your high, praising how good you were for him, how good you felt around him, until you crashed down against his chest, absolutely spent. 

Still, you had experienced enough sexual adventures with Jungkook to know that he still wanted two more things before he called it a night. He had his particular tastes. 

“Let me see it.” Jungkook told you about a minute later, and you knew exactly what he wanted you to do. With your thighs still trembling a little, you leaned back against the steering wheel and pushed your body upwards, letting his dick slip out of you. Jungkook hummed in delight as you pulled up your skirt and he watched his cum dripping down your thighs, painting your folds in a delicate shade of white. He always loved to admire his work. “So fucking pretty… and all mine.”

You had to bite down your lip not to whimper at the touch of his fingertips against your pussy, catching a bit of his cum on them. He took it to his mouth, humming around his digits as he tasted himself. “You always make such a mess,” you complained. 

“Shut up, I always clean it.” Jungkook sighed, looking at you almost tenderly. “You know what I’m gonna ask.”

Yes, you did. 

You sighed. “Fine.”

Jungkook hummed happily as you propped yourself over his cock once again, now half-hard, and placed it back inside you, sinking down until you were sitting on his lap. “Good girl.” He sighed in bliss, his hand caressing your hair as you rested your head against his broad chest. You didn’t understand why Jungkook loved staying inside you after sex, but you couldn’t deny that you weren’t bothered by it. You just liked to pretend as if you were. “Feels so nice.” 

You pressed yourself against his chest. “I hate you.” 

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around your lower back. “No, you don’t.” 

And you hated that he was right.

~ 

BAD INFLUENCE COLLECTION

[angelamajiki]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧

PAIRINGS: Yandere! Fatgum x Female! Sidekick! Reader

CW: noncon, voyeurism, bell bulge, size kink, praise kink, breeding, cunninglingus, bondage, dumbification

AN: This is a piece for Fern’s 1k Event! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ! Read the intro and first piece before reading this one! Ty <3 P.S. the italicized quotes are Nighteye’s and reader prior convo

Gluttony: The Second Circle of Dante’s Inferno

“What I like about gluttony,' a bishop I knew used to say, 'is that it doesn't hurt anyone else.'”

You hadn’t the faith to believe him when he said it.

It was hard to call the exchanges that occurred between the two of you a conversation. More or less, he spoke the truth of your reality and you simply didn’t have the gall to question it.

The elevator he thrust you into was cold and unnerving despite the cheesy jazz music that thankfully filled the void of silence you were sure would have deafened you if it prolonged itself. It gave you time to think on his words, more so than you would have liked to.

“The flesh endures the storms of the present alone; the mind, those of the past and future as well as the present. Gluttony is a lust of the mind. It is a poison that is all-consuming of the senses.”

Gluttony was the next trial, so it seemed. Lord knows what lies ahead for you, leaving you foolishly clutching to the notion that this circle couldn’t possibly be worse than the last.

The abrupt halt to the elevator allows the gravity of the situation to sink in fully. The inescapable horror was creeping in through the crack in the door, especially when it opened to find a man waiting for you.

And what a man he was, standing at nearly eight feet.

“Just the gal I was lookin’ for! I was worried my favorite lil sidekick had run off right after quitin’ time.”

An enormous, gloved hand clapped down on your shoulder, lingering far longer than you would have liked.

“Follow me to my office, yeah? I got something I wanna discuss with ya.”

And just like that, the string of fate slipped around your neck like a noose and pulled you along down the empty hallway, save for you, the man, and the numerous amounts of plaques, awards, and other celebratory memorabilia decorating the agency halls.

Judging by the pictures you saw yourself in, you were a hero of sorts, working alongside the unnamed man and two others you had yet to meet. Hopefully, your paths would never cross.

Even inside his office, you could see the remnants of what your life would be in this circle of hell. Whoever was with you seemed to be very fond of you, given the number of photographs and newspaper clippings adorning his desk and walls of the office.

“Y’know, I’ve been thinking about you a lot, and not just your fantastic work as a hero. Been thinking about what a fine woman you’ve grown to be.”

Those large hands found your shoulders again, stroking and rubbing to set you at ease in his grasp.

“Strong.”

One dipped down to your waist.

“Sweet.”

The other onto your arm.

“Everything a man like me needs. You sure fill my appetite in more than one way.”

Finally, the rest on your hips, thumbing circles into the soft flesh he took purchase in there.

Ah, so this was the glutton in question.

“I’m not sure I’m following what you mean.”

Just play dumb, maybe this circle will have mercy on you.

“Oh, don’t play coy with me, honey. There’s no reason to get all shy on me; I promise I don’t bite-”

His hand slid up to your neck, resting comfortably while enveloping the entirety of it with just his palm.

“Unless you ask for it.”

The whisper in his voice sent shivers down your spine, leaving you frozen in his grasp. It was undeniable that you would never beat him, no matter what your power may be in this world. Hell, if you even had one, how certain were you that you could use it?

Your options were far and few between, but laying down and taking it like some pathetic little bitch was not going to be an option for you. Not here, not now.

The shrill sound of your own voice even hurt your own ears as you cried for help, thrashing wildly in the grip of the man.

Your cries for help should have been chosen more carefully, seeing as when your two apparent saviors sped into the room, they opted to help the man pin you down even further.

“Damn, she’s being a feisty little thing-”

“Fatgum, let go of her neck! You’re gonna hurt her.”

“S-Should we really be doing this?”

And so you were left bound against the top of the desk, shrouded in a swarth of tentacles pinning your legs open and your hands above your head.

“Thank you, boys. Didn’t realize she would cause such a stir.”

So Fatgum was his name, or so it appeared to be an alias of some sorts.

“Fatgum, please-”

His smile was sickeningly sweet as he towered over you.

“Awe, no need for formalities with me, sugar plum. Just call me Tai, yeah?”

The two other men stood beside you, watching their boss closely as he dealt with you.

“Curiosity is gluttony. To see is to devour.”

Damn that cursed man for sending you down here in that goddamn elevator. This journey alone made it nearly impossible to keep this strength to see your mother again alive.

“Tai, please. I don’t-” His hearty laugh cut you off. “Begging already, sugar? By the fight you put up, I’d almost thought you didn’t want me anymore.”

“I don’t!” You protested, squirming in your slimy bonds before they tightened uncomfortably around you.

“Don’t yell at him like that. It's unbecoming of you.”

The raven-haired man snapped at you, looking down with a blush seared across his face and up to his ears.

“Relax, Tamaki. She just needs a reminder of who she belongs, ain’t that right? But, he’s right, I can't have you mouthing off like that, now can I?”

Slipping his black mask off his eyes, Tai fastened it around your mouth and head, loosely gagging you.

“Yeah, you belong to us!”

It was the redhead’s turn to pipe up before Tai shushed the pair of men.

“Now, now, I know you’re fond of our sweet little sidekick here, but this?”

He clapped a hand over still clothed pussy, rubbing gently.

“This here is mine; you boys can’t have this. But you’re more than welcome to stay and watch as I indulge myself.”

You whined into the gag, looking at him with teary eyes as he ripped a hole in your bottoms and panties.

“Hey, hey, hey. No need for tears, honeybun. You're safe with me, okay? I’m gonna take such good care of my little sweetheart, don’t you worry about a thing.”

His large fingers stroked over your clit slowly and tenderly, kissing your salty tears away as he shushed you with praise and loving words. Thumbing your clit, he pushed his middle fingers into you at a slow pace, grinning softly when you bit back a moan.

“Come on now, girl. We wanna hear how good I’m makin’ ya feel, ain’t that right, boys?”

Their collective groans of pleasure gave you all the response you needed; those sick fucks were getting off on you being harassed by your boss.

His finger sped up in pace, making you squeal once he curled his finger in an upwards motion. “Can’t wait to hear what you’ll sound like on my cock, sweet girl. Gonna sing us a nice song?”

Another finger slipped in as his free hand pawed at your tits, fondling and groping as he finger fucked you a new sense of vigor.

“As much as I don't want to hurt you, sweetheart, I’m just itching to get inside you and feel that pretty cunt around me. You understand, don’t you? I just can’t help myself when it comes to you.”

His lips continued to litter your skin in kisses to your face, licking at the tears that fell from your eyes when he added a third finger into your tight, wet hole.

“Mhm, you won’t mind if I have a taste, do ya?”

You could only whine in response.

“Of course you don’t, my good girl never says no to me.”

A hot mouth sealed itself around your clit as three fingers pumped in and out of you steadily, hitting all the right spots repeatedly. You squealed and shook in your binds, feeling your orgasm approaching hard and fast with the aid of his tongue lapping and suckling at you.

“Gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”

That was all you needed to feel yourself reach that blinding peak, sobbing and writhing as he rode out your ecstasy. His tongue continued to work at you far after you were finished, overestimating you without a care in the world. Your whines of protest fell on deaf ears as he just pulled your body closer to his face.

“Taste so good, sweetheart. I’ll stop when I’m finished with my meal, y’understand? This is my pussy, and I’ll do what I want with it.”

Leaving you twitching and sobbing, Tai finally pulled away and stood up, pulling his cock out and stroking it above you.

“Can’t wait to breed my pussy. Gonna make you my cute little cream puff.”

Both of his massive hands circled around you waist, pulling you flush against him as he sank all the way into your tight heat. The stretch of his girth was quite nearly unbearable as he pushed himself to the hilt inside of you, rubbing the small bulge in your belly with fondness while peering down at you.

“You feel so good, sweetheart. I knew you’d be so good for me. Yer takin’ me so well.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he slowly pulled out, leaving your legs twitching wildly when his thumb found its way back to your clit before he sank back in all the way. You could snark about how courteous it was of him to allow you to adjust, but the thread of consciousness was hard to grasp onto as he completely dominated your mind with numbing pleasure.

“You were made to take my cock, sweet thing. Let me give you a treat for bein’ so obedient for me.”

His praise went straight to your gut, as much as you hated to admit it, leaving you feeling pliable and soft under his demanding touch. Those hands around your waist pulled at your body, bringing you back and forth on his cock like you were a goddamn fleshlight.

“Ah, ” he grunted. “I don't think I can hold back much longer; you’ll let me be selfish, won’t ya?”

With that, all sense of tenderness and gentleness was thrown out the window as he picked you up from the desk, holding you against his chest as he jackhammered into you with an impossible pace of his hips.

“Shit! Squeezing me so tight, bein’ such a good little fucktoy for me.”

The sounds of skin slapping and the collective sounds of pleasure rang heavy in the room as he used and abused your throbbing pussy, feeling his grip on you tighten when he was reaching his own high.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum, gonna stuff my pussy nice and full!”

The bulge on your stomach grew even more as he came, stuffing you to the hilt with his cum and his cock. Ropes of it leaked out of your hole, even as he stayed inside you, panting and kissing at your sweaty forehead.

“Gave ‘em a good show, didn’t we, sweetheart? Say thank you, boys.”

Their thanks were mumbled out as they too had exhausted themselves just from the display of your pleasure. Tamaki’s tentacles retracted themselves from you, allowing you to stretch and return feeling to your arms and legs.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen, sweetheart. We’re - hey, are you with me? I’m gonna clean you up and take you back home with me, okay? No more hero nonsense for you, ya hear me? All you need to do from now on is stay home and keep that pussy warm for me.”

Like hell you were going to stay for another damned second in this realm, not after being violated so horrifically.

“O-Okay.”

Play it cool, play it cool.

“Let me go to the bathroom, then.” You swallowed, hoping to fool the men. “A-And I’ll get my change of clothes and we can go home.”

You didn’t wait for a response, hobbling out of the office before making a break down the hall for the elevator. Their shouts echoed off the hallway walls as you ran with all your strength left back into the safety of the elevator, leaving them running after you before the door shut on them.

“Gluttony is a great fault; but we do not necessarily dislike a glutton. We only dislike the glutton when he becomes a gourmet-that is, we only dislike him when he not only wants the best for himself, but knows what is best for other people.”

— tagging: @sightoru @anarchicmartyr @natsuonii @whumperooni @viixens @lunar-nebula @trafalgar-temptress

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Father of Mine – 2/2

Character: Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Summary: With the tragic passing of her mother, Y/N learns to the truth of who her father is.

Word Count: 4,100+

Warnings: absent father, subtle violence, mention of family death

A/N: The reader is described as tall in this fic. Bruce Wayne is 6′2 and I’m tall, so I’m indulging myself with no apologies. Read it or don’t.

Part 1

Bruce was working in the cave when Alfred interrupted him.

“Master Wayne, a guest has arrived unexpectedly.”

Bruce gave him a strange look. Hardly anyone showed up to the manor unannounced.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Alfred added.

“Right,” Bruce sighed.

“She’s waiting for you in your office.”

Bruce found Y/N pacing in the room, refusing to take the seat that he was sure Alfred offered her.

“Y/N,” he greeted, remembering how she disliked the formalities last night.

She whipped around at his greeting. “Am I your charity case now?”

He feigned confusion. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

She looked offended by his lie. “Don’t insult my intelligence. You paid all of my outstanding expenses that my mother left me.”

Bruce opened his mouth.

“Don’t try to lie to me,” she warned.

Bruce closed his mouth.

“Look, I don’t need your help,” Y/N sighed in obvious irritation. “Did you or did you not pay them?”

He took in a shallow breath, “I did.”

Y/N clenched her jaw as Bruce finally admitted his deed.

“I was only trying to help.”

“You can’t just throw money at me and expect it to make up for being a no-show.”

Bruce tensed. 

Did that mean…Did she know?

“You read the letter?” He asked.

“No,” she clarified. “But I figured it out.”

“I had no idea,” he tried to tell her.

“I don’t care,” she almost snorted.

“You have ever right to be angry with me…”

“I’m not angry. I’m annoyed.”

She took a defiant step toward him and crossed her arms.

The heeled boots she had on caused her already tall height to make her be eye to eye with Bruce. 

How many people had faced off with Batman and cowered with fear? 

But she didn’t submit or show any signs of intimidation.

“Do you think I cried myself to sleep every night as a child, wondering where my dad was or why he didn’t want me?” Y/N hissed.

Bruce didn’t respond.

“You think I give a fuck about the father-daughter dances? Or whatever the hell people think dads are only capable of doing?” She narrowed her eyes. “The thing is…I didn’t need you. I didn’t need you then and I don’t need you now.”

Bruce felt sick as he listened to her.

“I have the sneaking suspicion that you wouldn’t have been there for those anyway,” she added roughly. “My mom loved me more than enough. I didn’t need anyone else. And she made damn sure of that.”

“So I’m not your charity case to make yourself feel better after my mom made it clear she thought it was better to keep me from you, than to ever tell you that I existed. Says a lot about what kind of person she thought you are, huh?”

When Y/N finally stopped, she was taking deep breaths.

Bruce wondered how long she had that all bottled up. He didn’t think anything she said was a lie. Y/N didn’t need him. That had become clear.

She had grown up to be a successful, intelligent, and independent young woman.

And she got that way without a father figure of any sort.

After a few moments, Bruce finally bowed his head and cleared his throat. “I never intended on making you feel like a charity case.”

Bruce saw as Y/N took in a deep breath and the guilt slowly took over her expression.  

“Look,” Y/N sighed, “we finally know the truth. Let’s just…let’s just move on with our lives. OK?”  

Bruce couldn’t deny that the suggestion hurt.

After processing the news over the past week or so, he realized he wanted to get to know her. This wasn’t the first time a child of his had been dropped on him far too late. He had failed Damian in so many ways because of it. 

But Y/N was a young woman, fully developed and independent now. And Bruce couldn’t help but wonder that him being absent from her childhood had only benefitted her.

“If that’s what you want,” he finally told her.

Y/N didn’t know him well enough to hear the underlying pain in his words.

So she simply nodded and walked past him, having nothing more to say.

——————

Bruce adjusted his tie. He wanted nothing more than to rip it off his neck.

But he was on his best behavior tonight.

This year, the Gotham Gazette was given the honor of hosting the Pulitzer Prizes. And since Bruce and Wayne Enterprises donated quite a large sum of money to the Gotham Gazette, they felt inclined to invite him.

Bruce had every intention of skipping, until he found out that Lois Lane was receiving an award and Clark would also be attending.

He figured the least he could do was congratulate her and say hi to both of them.

That’s why he was trying to find them as soon as possible so he could and get the hell out of there.

Bruce finally spotted Clark talking to a woman whose back was to him. All he saw of her was the black dress and y/h/c hair. 

He made his way over.

Clark noticed him when he was a few feet away.

“I see you’ve finally left your cave,” he teased with a lift of his brow. “I honestly didn’t expect you to show.”

But when the woman Clark was speaking to turned to look at him, Bruce swore he felt his heart stop.  

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, clearly just as surprised at seeing Bruce.

None of this went missed by Clark. “Oh, do you two know each other?”

Bruce didn’t know how to respond. What would Y/N want? 

So he hesitated.

“I shot him for a cover once,” Y/N answered quickly.

She was a shockingly smooth liar.

Maybe she got that from Bruce, too.

But she didn’t realize that Clark could hear her heart rate quicken, catching the fib.

“And how exactly do you two know each other?” Bruce asked, recovering quickly.

“Y/N works with Lois a lot,” Clark answered. “She basically refuses to work with any other photographer.”

Y/N managed to force a smile.

“I should actually go find her and say my congrats,” she answered. 

“And I need to hunt down a drink,” she mumbled. 

Both men caught it.

Clark was rather taken aback by how she fled.

The Y/N he knew was always charming and kind, usually life of the party. He’d never seen her dodge a conversation in such a way before.

As soon as she was out of hearing range, Clark gave a intimidating glare to Bruce.

“Want to tell me what that was about?” He asked Bruce.

But Bruce only clenched his jaw.

“Past fling?” Clark asked with a somewhat disappointed tilt of his head.

“No. Nothing like that,” Bruce quickly corrected.

Not only did the idea make him feel sick. But if rumors started of the two of them being romantically linked, Bruce knew it would only make Y/N hate him more than she clearly already did. 

Thankfully, Clark took his denial seriously.

“She’s not my biggest fan,” Bruce added darkly.

“Y/N is a good friend,” Clark told him – almost in warning. “Lois and her have become rather close over the years.”

Then Clark smirked. “She does know how to hold a grudge though. And she’ll make your life hell...if you deserve it.” 

Bruce’s brain hurt as he realized how easily Y/N and his path’s could’ve crossed. She had been friends with Clark and Lois this whole time?

“I’m happy for her,” Clark added.

“Happy for her?”

Clark looked at Bruce as if it was obvious. “She’s being awarded tonight, too.”

How could Bruce not have realized? Why didn’t he think of looking at the list of people being awarded tonight? He’d been dreading attending so much that he didn’t even consider it.

“Bruce?” Clark asked with concern.

“Hmm?” He was not one to hum or mumble.

“You alright?”

Bruce didn’t have a lot of friends.

But Clark Kent was one of them. And him and Diana had noticed how Bruce was acting off for weeks now. Bruce was notorious for remaining stoic and giving nothing for people to try and guess what he was thinking or feeling. But they both knew it was something different. 

Someone over Bruce’s shoulder suddenly waved Clark over.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Clark told Bruce politely.

Bruce’s first instinct was to leave now that he knew Y/N was also in attendance.

But he knew he couldn’t act so cowardly.

Was he really that scared of his own daughter?

His eyes glanced around the room looking for her.

He spotted Y/N at one of the bars.

Either her conversation with Lois had been quick, or she simply used that as an excuse to get away from Bruce.

Bruce walked up beside Y/N at the bar.

He knew she felt his arrival by the way her body tensed.

“Had I known you would be here I would not have attended,” he told her while looking straight ahead.

Y/N ignored his apology. “How do you know Clark?”

“He’s a friend,” Bruce answered casually.

Then he allowed himself to take a sideways glance at her.

Her jaw was clenched.

He wondered what thoughts she was holding back.

Y/N really did remind him of her mother.

When they were together, Bruce was convinced she was the prettiest girl in the world. He wondered if Y/N had found someone in her life who told her the same.

“Congratulations on being honored tonight,” Bruce offered sincerely.

“Thank you,” she answered shortly.

A beat passed between them.

Bruce was about to give up and leave her be.

“Does Clark think I’m one of your one-night stands now?”

Y/N might not know Bruce well, but everyone was familiar with his romantic history. He wasn’t one to keep the same woman around for long. 

“No,” he quickly answered. “I made sure to prevent such a rumor from starting.”

Y/N finally slowly turned to him, her annoyance clear. “And you’re convinced that he really believed you?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, Clark has always been rather good at detecting a lie.” His tone was so confident that it left little room for argument.

But Bruce knew a losing battle when he saw one.

He dipped his head. “Enjoy the rest of your night. Congratulations again.”

But Bruce lingered, debating if he wanted to say what was on my mind.

“You look very beautiful. Just like your mother.”

There was nothing creepy or contrived about it.

Y/N blinked at the compliment, completely taken aback.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Bruce dipped his head and finally surrendered, leaving the party.

Y/N felt a presence behind her shoulder as he watched him leave.

“Was Bruce Wayne just hitting on you?” Lois asked with amusement.

“No. Not at all,” her tone was dazed and confused.

“He’s a good guy,” Lois told her lightly.

“Doubt it.”

“I mean it,” Lois insisted. “The media has given him a bad image. But I think he likes it that way,” she shrugged. “It’s not easy for him to open up. He’s not quick to trust.”

Lois thought she was building up a possible suitor for Y/N, having not a clue that she was describing Y/N’s father to her.

But Y/N was too busy thinking about how much Bruce sounded like her.

—————

A few weeks had gone by since Bruce and Y/N had run into each other at the ceremony.

It got Bruce to thinking: would he and Y/N had run into each other at some point in life – even without her mother’s posthumously confession?

Y/N knew Lois and Clark, lived in Gotham, seemed to know the same people through her work that Bruce was forced to interact with to keep up his persona.

Would he have sensed a connection had that been the case?

The possibilities kept Bruce up at night…along with the guilt that had already been eating away at him since he first read the later. And he’d read it 100 times more since.

Of all the boys, Dick was the only one that knew of Y/N’s existence. And if he hadn’t been at the right place at the right time, Bruce never would’ve told him. He had just been in shock after reading the letter that he blurted out the realization while Dick was in the same room.

Since then, Bruce didn’t linger in a room alone with him, knowing Dick would finally let all of his questions loose. And Bruce wasn’t ready to answer them.

While Tim was the one to connect them, he never followed through with what the situation was. He already had too much to deal with on a daily basis. Tim simply thought he was doing a nice favor for a beautiful woman. 

But if Bruce had told him, Tim would immediately do every possible background check on Y/N. He would be suspicious of the timing and underlying motives. He would probably assume that Y/N’s end goal was to get money or fame – or both. Bruce knew eventually Tim would come to the conclusion that Y/N wanted neither of those things. But it would still get an unnecessary rise out of the boy.

Bruce didn’t even want to think about how Damian would handle it. He knew his son felt a certain level of pride from being the only blood-son of his. Knowing he had a sibling – and an older sister at that – would most likely enrage him. And that wouldn’t make anything better. 

Jason…Well, Jason would get a kick out of Bruce letting down yet another child. And it would just be worse that she was blood related. He’d be curious about Y/N. Hell, he’d probably be tickled by the no-bullshit attitude Y/N had towards Bruce and her harsh efforts to keep him out of her life completely.

Now, Bruce sat at a Justice League meeting.

They were only a few minutes into a council session when his communicator started going off.

The boys knew not to contact him unless it was an emergency. So, he quickly excused himself and stood to leave the room.

“What is it?” Bruce answered, his Batman voice in full form.

“There’s been an attack at city hall,” Dick reported back hurriedly.

Bruce frowned. The boys had handled much worse things on their own before. There had to be more to it than that.

“Scarecrow,” Dick confirmed. “He released a fear toxin. It’s bad Bruce. The mayor has been infected, along with half of their staff. I think it’s a new string. Our antidote doesn’t seem to doing anything. Even if it did, we don’t have nearly enough for the amount of victims.”

“The others?” Bruce asked quickly – meaning Damian, Jason, and Tim.

“They’re fine. Jason’s trying to get everyone out before they inhale too much. Tim and Damian went after Scarecrow. GPD is in a panic.”

Bruce turned to see Clark had raced to his side. Clearly he had been eavesdropping on the conversation. But the expression in his face prevented Bruce from getting into an argument about it.

“What?” Bruce asked him, knowing something was wrong.

“Lois and Y/N were at that council meeting,” Clark breathed out.

“We’ll be there soon,” Bruce told Dick before hanging up.

—

Bruce thought he knew fear from the few times his boys had been in trouble. But it was nothing compared to the fear he had knowing it was Y/N this time. She wasn’t a trained vigilante; she was just an innocent civilian. Bruce had not insured that she was trained and could take care of herself.

As soon as Clark dropped them on the ground, they were in the midst of the chaos.

“Lois!” Clark yelled.

People were too distracted to notice Superman and Batman had arrived.

Bruce looked over to see Lois rushing to Clark. He could tell it took all of Clark’s willpower not to embrace Lois from his relief.

“Are you OK?” Clark asked as he dipped his head and his eyes raced across his wife’s body.

“I-I’m fine. I got lucky. Somehow I was out of range of the gas explosion.”

“Y/N?” Bruce interrupted. “Did you see Y/N?”

“She was helping these kids get out and I was getting shoved out of the building. I tried to get to her but it was impossible with everyone’s panic. I think she’s still in there.”

Before Bruce could turn to Clark to come up with a plan, Clark flew into the building. A few people finally noticed the presence of superheroes and started murmuring.

“Nightwing, Red Hood – I’m at the front entrance of City Hall.”

Clark flew back to them not even 30 seconds later.

Y/N was unconscious in his arms.

“Oh my god,” Lois muttered at Y/N’s condition.

“She’s gone into shock. We need to get her to the medics,” Clark informed them. “She was exposed to the toxin more than the others.”

But Bruce was already shaking his head. “They won’t be able to help her.”

Clark gently handed Y/N to Bruce as he explained, “There are others in there.”

Just then Nightwing and Red Hood dropped in front of them.

Nightwing immediately recognized Y/N and his eyes shot up to Bruce with worry.

“Nightwing, I need you to take her back to the cave,” he tried to sound as controlled as possible.

Bruce was confused why Dick hesitated to take Y/N out of his arms.

“Do you have the batmobile? I brought my motorcycle,” Dick sounded apologetic when he explained.

Jason stepped forward before Bruce could answer. “I got her.”

As if she were the most fragile being ever, Jason carefully took Y/N’s unconscious body from Bruce’s grip. He could see in Bruce’s gaze that she was someone special. How and why, Jason would figure out later. 

Jason had seen Y/N trying to help as many people before she was completely poisoned from the toxin. She’d risked her life to help. 

Watching Jason cradle her into his body caught Clark off guard, always seeing the brute strength and almost animalistic energy from Red Hood whenever they so happened to fight beside each other.

“Meet us at the cave,” Bruce clarified. “Alfred will know what to do. We have to help out here more.”

Jason nodded before he hurried away with her and rushed to his hidden car.  

——————

Y/N’s eyes snapped open and she shot up, sitting in a cot.

“Hey, hey, hey,” a voice she didn’t recognize said beside her. “You gotta relax.”

She turned to see a mammoth of a man sitting beside her, wearing vigilante gear with at least two guns being displayed at his sides. But it was the red helmet completely hiding his face and true voice that made Y/N feel uncomfortable.

“What the fuck,” she groaned at the sight of him.

Just a few seconds later, two men rushed into the room.

Bruce walked in still in his Batman uniform, but without his cowl – to Jason’s shock.

Clark was beside him, making Jason confused as to why he was still here. Surely he would want to be with Lois. 

Y/N took in the sight before her.

“You were poisoned with a new strand of Scarecrow’s toxin,” Superman explained.

Y/N had seen plenty of pictures and shaky video of him. But now that the man stood before her, she immediately recognized him.

“Clark?” She gasped.

He didn’t say anything. But his expression didn’t fight her realization, just silently waited for the truth to settle.

“Does Lois know?” Was her next question.

Clark smirked at that. “Of course.”

Y/N gave a slight nod.

But now her attention switched to Bruce. 

The Batman symbol was large across his chest, and his cape was still intact.

She looked around her surroundings and then up at the ceiling.

They were in a cave.

“You’re…you’re…” she couldn’t finish her sentence.

“Batman,” Bruce finally offered.

Y/N’s eyes were wide with panic.

How was this possible?

Now that the others had exposed their identity, Jason felt inclined to take off his helmet. Clearly, it was making her uncomfortable.

The hiss of his helmet being removed caused Y/N to finally look away from her father and to Jason, who still wore a domino mask. But it was far less frightening than the helmet.

“We’ll give you two a moment alone,” Clark spoke for both him and Jason.

Jason nodded and stood up from the seat beside Y/N, and walked out. 

Clark lingered in the doorway. “I’ll be right outside if you need me,” he told her.

He might’ve revealed his Superman identity to her, but she was still his friend.

Y/N managed to nod in thanks, but was clearly still shook by all this news.

Bruce very slowly made his way to the chair that Jason had just been sitting in.

“How are you feeling?”

She shook her head. “Body’s sore. Migraine is killing me. What happened?”

“You were more exposed to the toxin more than the other victims. Jason brought you here. We had to make a new anecdote, and quickly.”

Bruce wanted to add that she could’ve died. But he didn’t see the use in scaring her.

“Oh,” was all she managed to mumble.

An awkward silence settled between them.

“Very few people know the truth about me,” Bruce explained.

Y/N’s gaze flickered up from her lap to look at him.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I figured I couldn’t ask you to allow me into your world if I didn’t allow you into mine.”

She was silent.

“Y/N…” Bruce cleared his throat. The time had come. “The reason I left your mother was because I was starting this life. I pushed her away to protect her. I knew I couldn’t be the man she deserved while also being Batman. Had I known the truth…��

His words died out. It was starting to become harder to control his emotions.

He leaned forward in his chair, just getting slightly closer to her.

“Had I known about you, I would’ve…” He cleared his throat to try and hold back his tears. “I never would’ve abandoned you or your mother.”

He leaned back then. “But I know those are just words. And to you, they probably sound like empty promises for the past.”

“She never knew?” Y/N whispered.

In the few moments she was allowed to process this information, her mind immediately wondered if her mom had known about Bruce’s double life all along. And that’s why she kept him away from her.

Bruce shook his head.

“Thank you…for trusting me enough to tell me your secret,” Y/N finally told him. “I promise I’ll never tell anyone,” she quickly added, feeling like she just needed to clarify that to him.

He gave her a small small, “I know.”

Y/N winced as she thought about how terrible she’d been to him all this time. Now that she knew the truth – the whole truth – she was looking at everything with a new perspective. Even what she knew about Bruce Wayne, the spoiled socialite... it was clearly all wrong. 

He used it as a cover. It was all a cover.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you,” she whispered shakily.

But Bruce shook his head before she could even get the apology out.

“Do you think it’s too late for us?” She breathed. 

Could they ever find any fragment of a father-daughter relationship?

Y/N was an adult – she had been for years now. And she made it clear she didn’t need nor want a father.

“Believe it or not, this isn’t the first time this has happened to me,” Bruce sighed.

Her brow furrowed. “This meaning…?”

“My son, Damian. His mother kept him a secret from me. She didn’t reveal his existence until he was nine. And she only did it in an attempt to disrupt my life.”

“This seems to be a rather strange pattern in your life,” Y/N couldn’t help but point out.

Bruce glared at her, causing her to chuckle.

“My point is,” he continued, “I don’t think it’s ever too late.” And he cleared his throat quickly. “That is, if you want to try.”

“I think I do,” she answered with a shy smile.

It was the first time she’d done so in his presence.

“I don’t know anything about raising a daughter,” Bruce rubbed his face as he attempted to make the joke. But she could tell there was sincerity there, too.

“Well, I’ve already been raised,” Y/N laughed.

There.

That laugh.

It brought Bruce back to his teenage years. It sounded so much like her mother. Her face lit up just like her’s had.

“You remind me so much of your mother,” he gasped.

Her face dropped at his confession.

“Really?”

He nodded. “She said you were just like me. But there’s more of her in you than I think she ever realized.”

Bruce saw his much his words effected her.

Y/N’s eyes were shiny with tears, but she managed to hold them back.

“So what now?” She quickly asked, obviously trying to distract herself so she wouldn’t have a complete emotional breakdown.

“Well, Alfred should have dinner ready soon. Would you stay?”

She gave him a tear-filled smile. “I’d like that.”

“You can meet the rest of them,” Bruce told her casually as he stood.

“The rest of them?”

He nodded. “Well, you only have to meet Damian now. You already met Jason, Dick, and Tim in passing.”

“And here I thought you had no idea how to be a father…” Y/N muttered with amusement.

Bruce helped her get out of bed, making sure she was alright to stand and walk on her own.

“Well, depending on which of them you ask, they might tell you that you’re right.”

--------------------

Thank you to everyone who read the first part. Let me know what you think <3

BONUS: This Game of Ours

[wri0thesley]

Nat... 👉👈 since requests are open can I please request some Gojo fluff? If you need a little inspo maybe like, reader and him meet after they were abroad for a mission or something? I'm in love with this funky man and I just wanna give him kiths

sweet tooth - gojo x reader, sfw, 2.5k

the early bird catches the worm. or the cake, you guess.

(just a lot of talking about food tbh . . . i dont get to write pure sfw fluff much, thank u for letting me indulge in my jjk brainrot NFJVND. gn reader! )

You know as well as anyone how little free time a jujutsu sorcerer has. You’ve spent most of your past few years rushing around from place to place, calling it a good night’s rest when you manage to fall amongst your coverings before the clock strikes three in the morning. You think this probably has to go double for somebody in such a constant state of being needed as Gojo – but still, he’d shown up outside your room this morning, bright and early, and said; “We’re going out!”

He hadn’t mentioned that you were still clad in pyjamas, your hair still a mess about your face, eyes still sleep and shadowed. You had jumped out of bed at the knock, of course – you’re used to being needed at the drop of a hat – but there is nothing at all in the way Gojo is looking at you to suggest there’s any kind of danger brewing.

He got in last night at the same time as you, after an exorcism had dragged on longer than expected – you know this. So how is his skin still glowing like moonlight, his voice still so bright, his hair still falling over his blindfold in that effortless perfectly-styled-without-being-styled way?

If he’s slept, he’s gotten the same hour and fifteen minutes you’ve gotten.

“Not even a warning?” You sigh, stifling a yawn. “I haven’t had time to clean my weapons or anything--”

“Woah!” Gojo’s grin doesn’t fade, but he holds up his hands as if he’s trying to avoid a savage attack. “Just you and me. No curses, promise. You won’t be needing those.” He cocks his head to the side. “Unless you wanna try and take me. I think you’d lose!”

Your brow furrows. You know you’d lose, and so does he.

“Have you seen the time?” You ask him, instead. You don’t question why or how he’d gotten into the hallway to stand like this outside of the room you’re renting in Tokyo for a while. You’ve learnt after knowing him for a while that what Gojo wants, he gets – besides. If he’d sweet-talked your landlady into letting him in, you couldn’t blame her for falling for his charms.

He sticks his head into your room and turns his face towards the clock on the wall, ticking merrily away, mocking you. You had hoped, after last night, the next time you saw a clock the hour hand would be well past twelve again. He pulls back.

“Now I have.”

“. . . aren’t you tired?”

Gojo shrugs, maddeningly. Half of what he does is irritating to the highest degree – the other half makes your stomach do strange somersaults that you try and push away. Getting a crush on Gojo Satoru is just going to lead to disaster. Although at this point, you have to admit to yourself that it’s more a case of ‘having a crush’ – there’s not much denying it, when he twinkles at you like this.

“You’ve gotten a good hour of beauty sleep,” he chirps. “Not that you need it. Let me take you out!”

You’re still focussing on the compliment, slipped into his words as if it’s as simple as breathing, when he enters your room full-on and is opening your wardrobe.

“H-hey,” you say, weakly. He’s rifling through the rack without a care in the world. “I—I can dress myself--”

“It’s quicker if I do it,” he replies, pulling out one of your favourite shirts. “Here, catch--!” Your reflexes allow you to not make a fool of yourself in front of him. “The colour of that one’s pretty! It’ll look nice on you.”

You’ve had more clothes piled into your arms before you can blink. You guess that Gojo must know his way around clothes – you’ve seen some of the brands and price tags of things he wears – but you can’t help but be a little flabbergasted by just how casual he is about everything. Maybe it’s the fact that your brain is still short-circuiting after being woken up earlier than you were expecting.

He finishes and walks over to you.

“I’ll wait outside.”

“W-what a gentleman,” you manage, and he throws his head back and laughs, and the laugh feels like it lodges warm in your chest. “After waking me up, bursting into my bedroom--”

“I’ll pay for everything,” he promises. He saunters out of your room, pulling the door closed behind him, calling; “I’ll make it up to you, promise!”

You stand there for a few more moments, still struggling to process the whirlwind that is Gojo’s presence in your life – half joking, half serious, half making you think that maybe you stand a chance, when he calls through the door;

“I can’t hear you moving!”

You jump. You wriggle out of your nightwear, your cheeks heating up, as you snap back;

“You said you were going to wait out there, not that you were going to press your ear to it and listen like some kind of stalker--!”

–

You stare in confusion at the fancy window in front of you, decorated with swirling cursive in gold. From outside, you can see into the establishment – the white scrollwork chairs, the cake stands, the menus standing up in their pale white leather covers. The early morning sunlight from outside is reflecting off a perfectly organised display case teeming with tiny little perfectly formed cakes.

“If you were craving something sweet,” you say, eventually, “surely there was an easier way to get it than this.”

Gojo grabs your arm cheerfully, pulling you towards the entrance of the patisserie.

“Well, I got the first sweet thing I was craving,” he ticks it off with his other hand. “But then I had one of my patented brainwaves.” He elbows you. “Put them both together!”

“I’m not feeling very sweet after you interrupted my sleep,” you mumble, but you know that there’s no real bite in your words. You hope Gojo doesn’t notice the reaction that you have – you know he’d never let it go. You often don’t know how to respond to his flirting – he has a reputation, after all, and you are just . . . you.

“We had to get here early, anyway,” he says, as he stands before the counter. The man in the apron and chef hat behind it recognises him immediately, lighting up – you wonder how much money Gojo spends on expensive patisserie. Everyone knows he has a sweet tooth. “They sell out of some of the best stuff well before ten!”

Gojo knows exactly what he’s doing as he points out various desserts from the display case, the man falling over himself to get the – frankly absurd amount of sweets – carefully packaged up for him. You’re not surprised, knowing Gojo, about the cute animal-shaped cakes that he chooses, the smiling bears and cats with ears made of sliced strawberries. You’re a little more surprised by all of the fancier pieces he chooses that you don’t recognise, but you don’t have much time for dwelling on it.

Spoils in hand, you peer further into the establishment to choose a table.

“Nah, don’t worry about that,” Gojo says cheerfully. “We’ll find somewhere outside to sit. It’s such a nice morning!”

You don’t miss the grin he shoots you as he says ‘morning’, the sidelong tip of his head as if he’s waiting to see if you’ll scold him again for interrupting your sleep. You do no such thing, content to be pulled along behind him again as he goes off in search of a place to enjoy his spoils.

People just tend to be pulled along by Gojo’s magnetism, you’ve discovered – and you are, hopelessly, no different.

He finds a quiet bench in a shady corner of one of the local parks; the only other people going past occasional elderly, walking their little dogs. He pats the wooden frame of the bench next to him, smiling.

“You’re not going to make me eat all of this by myself, huh?”

“It’s enough for eight people,” you say, sighing and resigning yourself to your fate as you take the place. He’s lucky you have a sweet tooth too; if he’d brought someone else, they’d probably be shirking back in horror at all the sugar. “You could probably eat it by yourself anyway.”

He pouts.

“I want to share it with you,” he says, cajoling – his fingers hover over one of the smaller cakes, a perfect bite-sized morsel. You try not to think about the elegant lines of his fingers and the power behind them as he plucks it up and offers it to you. “This one’s really good.”

You bring up your hand to take the sweet from him, but he laughs as your fingers bounce away from him, not quite able to get a purchase.

“Let me feed you,” he says to you, and blood rushes to your face all over again.

“I—I can feed myself,” you say, swallowing thickly. Gojo’s smile, on full, sculpted lips, makes butterflies crash into one another in the pit of your stomach.

He brings the treat to your mouth and he’s right, it does look really good. It’s a neat little roll cake, small in Gojo’s fingers, with the green colouring so many sweets you’ve eaten in Japan have been – you hope it’s not matcha, knowing the flavour will surprise you and Gojo will probably laugh, but you open your mouth in defeat and let Gojo pop it in there. His fingers linger a little too long against your lips, his expression fluttering so quickly you don’t quite catch it.

If you didn’t know better . . . you’d say that he had just fought back a blush.

“Is it good?” He asks, and his voice sounds a little strangled. You bite down on the cake, the juice of the strawberries coating your tongue – it is matcha, but the flavour is offset by the sweetness of the vanilla and fruits, and you’re glad about it. You nod enthusiastically, and he laughs.

“I told you!” He taps your cheek. “I know what I’m talking about!”

“You’re so smug,” you tell him, unable to hold back the laughter that’s bubbling out of you. Alright, maybe he woke you up too early and maybe he’s dragged you outside and maybe he’s been haunting your daydreams for months now, but . . . you think he means well. And you can’t deny that the sun is shining and the cakes are really delicious.

“If you were me,” he says, stretching out his arms over the back of the bench, “you would be smug too.” You shake your head at him, but he has a satisfied smile on his face. “Feed me one!”

“Are you going to let me?” You ask. “Or are you just going to bounce it away with your Infinity to make fun of me?”

You hover over the selection yourself, considering what to choose for him. In the end, you go for one of the mini slices of mille crepe cake, reasoning with yourself that even if it’s unusual to be eating so much cake this early, at least crepes are a traditional breakfast. Gojo obediently opens his mouth wider as you lift the slice.

You falter.

“You really want me to feed you?” You ask him, unsure. He laughs, grabbing ahold of your wrist – you almost start as he takes a bite from the treat, his lips tantalisingly close to your fingers. Another bite, and the cake is gone (you’ve never seen slices of mille crepe so small – but then again, judging by the eye-watering amount Gojo paid for his spoils, you’d never be able to afford to buy from a place like that).

“Mm,” he smacks his lips together. “It’s good.”

You swallow, noticing that there’s a smear of the cream between layers at the corner of his mouth. Gojo notices you staring, and quirks his lips into a smirk. “You’re staring,” he says. “I know I’m gorgeous, but--”

“You’ve got . . .” You say, awkward, motioning to his face. Somehow, it feels too intimate to lean forward and dab it away yourself – he’d asked you to feed him, after all. If you did it of your own accord. . .

“Huh? Oh,” He moves one of the arms casually draped over the bench to his face, and you think he is going to wipe it away – but instead, he hooks his thumb under his blindfold, pushing it up casually so the light hits the swirling colours in his eyes.

You’ve seen them before, of course – you’ve seen Gojo at work, after all – but they’re still a surprise, a bright moment of swirling starshine dropped on you when you’re least expecting it. Your stomach does that flip-flop again, the one that you try so hard to ignore – but when he’s looking at you like that, curious and smug all at once, you don’t really know how to handle it.

You’re glad you’re in a secluded spot. There’s nobody to see the embarrassing display of you not quite knowing what to do with yourself.

“You can get it,” he says to you. “I don’t mind.”

“I—”

“Look.” His other hand rises, cups your face, thumb ghosting across the same spot on your cheek that he’d tapped earlier. “I left icing sugar on your face. I’ll get that, and then we’ll be even.”

(Did he do that on purpose, you wonder? You wouldn’t be surprised.)

Your hand is trembling as you reach for the cream. You try and force your fingers to be still as you lean in closer to him, eyes concentrated, as you wipe the little splotch of cream from his mouth. You’re so close you can see galaxies in his eyes, the fan of white lashes, the way that his throat bobs when he swallows as if he’s nervous--

Nervous? Gojo? That can’t be true.

“I got it,” you breathe, though you don’t move. Your faces are so close together. You could lean forward, just a bit, and meet his lips with your own. Gojo’s eyes stay trained on you, not faltering in the least. His thumb is still on your cheek. Your own finger hasn’t moved from the corner of his mouth.

“Wanna know what it tastes like?” Is that a falter, in his voice? You’re stuttering all over the place, but Gojo--

“I’m not gonna put that in my mouth after it’s been on your face,” you tell him, without moving. Your heart is beating ten to the dozen. Gojo’s eyes crinkle at the corners.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says – and he breaks the distance himself, and suddenly he is kissing you. The hand on your cheek cupping your face into his, the other hand going about your waist, holding you tightly against him like he’s been wanting to do it since the moment he woke you up that morning.

(The mille crepe cake is delicious, you find out, from the lingering taste on his lips. Next time you two go there in the early morning rush, Gojo buys two slices.)

[ibijau]

27 for chengxian! (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤

(Losing their memory only to have it come back after a much awaited true love’s kiss.)

Y'all really like that prompt lol I think I have at least one more ask for that one somewhere?

“And he’s been like this the whole time?” Jiang Cheng asked, repressing a shiver of disgust.

“Yes, zongzhu.”

“He didn’t even make a single inappropriate joke?”

“Not so much as a smile, zongzhu. And he said he was sorry for the inconvenience.”

Jiang Cheng gave Wei Wuxian another long look. He would have suspected a joke, but that style of humour would have more been Nie Huaisang’s thing. Wei Wuxian usually went for pranks instead of comedy. Besides, several Jiang disciples had been there when Wei Wuxian had taken in hand the cursed box, and they’d all testified to feeling a powerful discharge of Yin energy. Not only that, but the owner of the box had apparently warned them beforehand of the risk, and explained as well how to cure the curse.

True love’s kiss, of all things.

Normally, when it came to Wei Wuxian, that would have been quite an easy cure to organise. If anything, it was preventing him from indulging in those true love’s kisses that proved a challenge.

So of course this whole mess had to happen when, for once, Jiang Cheng had managed to get his shixiong to come without that damn icicle he called a husband. A favour he had only obtained because Lan Wangji was away on a Night Hunt in a place where resentment toward the feared Yiling patriarch remained too great for Wei Wuxian to go with him. It would take a few days until Lan Wangji could be warned of this incident and returned to administer his cure.

Until then, Jiang Cheng was stuck with this stranger who didn’t look like his shixiong, and didn’t even act like him either.

“At least it’s an improvement over his normal personality,” his first disciple scoffed. “Let’s all enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Am I really that bad?” Wei Wuxian asked with open concern. “If it is inconvenient for others when I am myself, perhaps I’d better stay like this.”

Jiang Cheng huffed. Lan Wangji would never have allowed that, he knew. Someone in that marriage needed to have a personality, and it wasn’t going to be the second jade of Gusu Lan. Although perhaps if they were both equally boring, then perhaps there would be a divorce, and Jiang Cheng could get his shixiong back.

A most tempting plan, except for the fact that this man before him just wasn’t Wei Wuxian, and thus wasn’t worth keeping around.

“Send for Lan Wangji,” Jiang Cheng reluctantly ordered. “And you, come with me,” he added toward Wei Wuxian. “I’m not letting you sleep at some inn when you’re in that state. I’ll have your room prepared, you’re staying where I can see you until you’re better.”

The man who wasn’t Wei Wuxian meekly followed him without a single objection, nor any attempt at teasing. Jiang Cheng found it almost sickening, which surprised him. He’d spent most of his life wishing Wei Wuxian would learn to act more appropriately and to show proper deference to those around him. By all accounts, this should have pleased Jiang Cheng to finally behold a version of his shixiong that knew his place.

He refused to dwell on that, mostly because it never did him good to think too long about that insufferable shixiong of his. Instead, Jiang Cheng congratulated himself on his decision to have had a room prepared for Wei Wuxian the instant he’d heard Lan Wangji wasn’t with him. If he wasn’t going to have shameless intercourse during the whole night, there was no need to banish Wei Wuxian to an inn. Of course Jiang Cheng hadn’t been sure how to offer that bedroom to the other man without being accused of being friendly, so at least one positive side to that curse had been to remove the need for an explanation.

-

After a few days together, Jiang Cheng had determined that being stuck with that unnatural version of Wei Wuxian was the worst torture he’d ever endured, even counting being struck by discipline whips and having his golden core torn from him.

Now that he’d had time to observe the amnesiac man during the afternoon and at dinner, Jiang Cheng had realised that contrary to his first impression, something of Wei Wuxian remained through the loss of memory. It was only small things, a manner of movement, the way he held his glass of tea, or the gesture with which he sprinkled additional spices over his dinner without even tasting it. A hundred ghosts of who Wei Wuxian was, lingering in a man who had too much politeness and not enough humour.

It was striking also to realise just how little Wei Wuxian looked like himself in his current body. Usually it wasn’t noticeable because his personality made up for the difference, but at the moment he truly looked like nothing but a complete stranger wearing a disguise.

Jiang Cheng hated it.

And Wei Wuxian, apparently, noticed it.

“If you tell me more about what I’m normally like, I can try to act more like it,” he said in a forlorn voice on the fourth afternoon, while watching Jiang Cheng take care of his correspondence.

Jiang Cheng only grunted.

“Though from what everyone says, aren’t I more pleasant to have around like this?”

Another grunt. Others were idiots for not appreciating Wei Wuxian as he naturally behaved, while Jiang Cheng was equally stupid for missing it.

“Just tell me what to do,” Wei Wuxian insisted, and Jiang Cheng hated that those were words he’d always wished to hear but now felt so wrong. “Should I smile? Should I be…” he hesitated. “Should I be obnoxious?” he asked in a trembling voice, just pathetic enough that in a roundabout way, it did sound like something Wei Wuxian might say if he were joking.

Jiang Cheng, exhausted and on edge, almost laughed.

Sadly Wei Wuxian noticed, and took it as encouragement.

“I think I can do that,” he claimed, coming to sit closer until he was nearly on Jiang Cheng’s lap.

That, too, felt a little too much like the real Wei Wuxian, though normally he kept that sort of behaviour for Lan Wangji.

Well perhaps that damn icicle liked being climbed over, but Jiang Cheng did not. Not at all, not one bit, that scenario had never once appeared in his dreams, when his mind thought it could betray his good sense. So Jiang Cheng tried to push away Wei Wuxian, who quickly threw his arms around Jiang Cheng’s neck to make it harder.

“Isn’t this the sort of things I’d do?” Wei Wuxian pleaded, pressing himself harder against Jiang Cheng the more his shidi tried to get rid of him, until he was all but straddling him. “I’ve heard people say I’m flirty.”

“Yes, toward your husband!”

“Well, I don’t know him. But I know you. You’ve been kind to me those few days, even when it was obvious that you don’t like seeing me like this. You shout a lot, but I think you’re a very good person at heart.”

“I’ve tried to kill you in the past,” Jiang Cheng blurted, though he gave up on trying to push Wei Wuxian away. “More than once.”

“From what I’ve heard, you’re hardly the only one.”

Two thoughts crossed Jiang Cheng’s mind.

The first was that he might have to borrow some ideas and forbid gossip in the Lotus Pier, if Wei Wuxian had heard so much in so little time.

The second was that he probably ought to hate a little more the way Wei Wuxian was straddling him, and how close he was. Close enough that if someone were to come in, they’d get the wrong idea and think they were about to…

Jiang Cheng’s eyes flickered to Wei Wuxian’s lips. He wondered, and then mentally slapped himself for wondering.

“The cure is a true love’s kiss, isn’t it?” Wei Wuxian asked in a whisper.

“Your damn true love is going to arrive tonight or tomorrow,” Jiang Cheng retorted in a voice that failed to be anything but pleading. “Wait for him instead of playing games.”

“If I wait for him, I’ll never be sure about you,” came the answer, before Wei Wuxian pressed their lips together.

Jiang Cheng, at first, merely allowed it to happen, unsure what to do with his hands, with his mouth even. Wei Wuxian appeared to understand and, without breaking the kiss, placed Jiang Cheng’s hands on his hips while also moving his lips in a gentle manner, as if trying to show him what to do.

When they parted, Wei Wuxian’s cheeks were flushed and his eyes shining with emotion. Then, slowly, his lips parted into the most obnoxious grin in the world, one that Jiang Cheng hadn’t seen once in those last few days.

“Jiang Cheng!” Wei Wuxian laughed, his voice just as annoying as ever. “Jiang Cheng, who knew!”

“Shut up! Get off my lap now that you’re cured!”

Wei Wuxian laughed again, sounding like a demented wolf, and Jiang Cheng hated how much he had missed that.

“Jiang Cheng, don’t pretend, I know you care, you can’t hide it anymore!”

“Who’d care for an asshole like you!” Jiang Cheng exploded, trying again to push away the other man, only for Wei Wuxian to laugh and press another quick kiss to his lips.

“Look at you, all embarrassed! Jiang Cheng, you’re an idiot, you know.”

“I’ll murder you!”

“Been there, done that,” Wei Wuxian retorted with another kiss. “Now listen. The cure was true love’s kiss, not ‘somewhat unrequited long lasting crush kiss’, alright?”

Jiang Cheng stopped fighting instantly, thus giving Wei Wuxian the chance to kiss him again, a little longer this time. Without any input from his brain, Jiang Cheng’s hands found their way to the other man’s hips, this time pulling him closer.

“What about your Hanguang-Jun then?” Jiang Cheng breathlessly asked when they parted. “Does that mean he’s…”

“I’m a very spoiled man,” Wei Wuxian said. “I can have two true loves, to make up for the fact that they’re both absolute bitches.”

The idea of sharing Wei Wuxian, now that Jiang Cheng knew he could have him, was particularly unpleasant. The only thing that would make it bearable, Jiang Cheng decided, was the certainty that Lan Wangji would be appalled that they had anything in common.

Happy with this petty thought, Jiang Cheng kissed Wei Wuxian again.

[kindahoping4forever]

My Drug Is My Baby // Ashton Irwin

Thank you to everyone for your patience - I wrote and teased this story quite a while ago but I’ve unfortunately had some real life matters keeping me away from Tumblr. So it fits that I’m back with somewhat of a comfort fic (with a dirty edge because obviously) 😌. No big backstory, I was in a shitty mood, decided a horny smoke sesh in Ash’s backyard was the only cure and I wrote this surprisingly easily (for me). Thanks to @cal-puddies​​​​ for assuring me that this wasn’t just a “me” fantasy (lol) and for cheering me on in the form of copious clown emojis in the comments section of Google Docs.🤡🤡🤡🤡

Warnings: A boyfriend!Ash fic featuring weed smoking, mention of masturbation and sex toys, dirty talk, brief manual and oral stimulation of a female, dry humping, cum play

Word count: 3300

Masterlist // Ko-Fi and New 2021 Taglist linked above

Let  me  know  what  you  think!

You close your eyes, stretching out on the patio lounger and losing yourself in the music pouring from the bluetooth speaker on the table next to you. The cool night air blows across you and you surprise yourself with the volume of the pleased sigh you let out; it could just be the state you’re in but you swear it’s the best thing you’ve ever felt.

It’s only Tuesday but you’ve already absolutely had it with this week and all day the only thing you could think about was getting home, getting off and getting high. You’d hoped to tackle those last two items on your checklist with your boyfriend but just as you were pulling into the driveway, he texted saying he'd be home late.

You felt disappointed but adaptable and made a nice little evening for yourself: you ordered dinner from that Italian place only you like, indulged in a hot shower that went on for far too long and spent some quality time with your favorite vibrator. To close out your evening, you threw on your panties and one of Ashton's hoodies and headed out back to have a smoke in his “garden.” 

It’s not much, just a few pots with flowers and vegetables, but he’s so fucking proud of it, especially since you’ve helped him spruce it up with string lights and furniture, you’ve come to love it as much as he does.

You sigh again as the breeze continues to tickle your skin and you wiggle your toes, trying to decide if your bare legs are actually chilly or if you're just sensitive from your high. You're pretty sure you saw a blanket by the door but that seems super far away right now so instead you just hug your knees to your chest and try to fit them inside your oversized sweatshirt.

"Thought I heard a party back here," a voice teases from across the yard. 

You turn to look behind you, delight decorating your face. "I didn't hear the car pull up!" You consider running over to him and leaping into his arms but again, that seems like a lot of work so instead you just sit up on your knees, pucker your lips and wait.

Ashton chuckles, bounding over to plant a soft kiss to your impatient mouth. "Mmm, you taste sweet," he comments.

"Oh! I saved some for you," you exclaim, offering him the three-quarters eaten bag of kettle corn you've been snacking on.

He snorts and shakes his head but still dips inside for a handful. "Midnight snack in the garden and about 20 minutes ago I got five different messages that had no words but roughly three dozen kiss emojis… my love, are you high?" He spots your pipe on the table and turns it over in his hands, exaggeratedly inspecting. 

"Why, you jealous?" You giggle as you swipe it back from him.

"A little," he laughs, running a hand over your face and grinning as you melt into his touch. "Had a bit of a day myself."

You pout at his statement, yanking him down into another kiss, mewling as his beard scratches your face. "I was thinkin’ about packing another bowl, come smoke with me, tell me about it,'' you insist.

“Planned on it when I heard you back here,” he smiles. “Might need to go in and grab us another snack though, evidently.”

You stick your tongue out at him. "Oh wow, you're right, I am super sweet," you observe distractedly, now happily licking your own lips. 

Ash laughs joyfully, settling into the chaise opposite yours. You start off asking softball questions about each other’s day, wanting to save the bigger complaints for later, when the high can take the edge off. In between anecdotes, there’s that comfortable silence you always love falling into with him. The two of you are thinkers as well as talkers and sometimes you need to collect your thoughts before you launch into the next topic; you love that you both recognize and appreciate that need. You also love the chance to just observe your man, love watching his wheels turn as his mind works, love taking him in, marveling that he exists in your world.

Tonight you find yourself fascinated as he takes the supplies off the table and gets to work, fingers reaching into the stash jar to break off pieces of the bud, long hair falling in his face as he methodically loads them into the grinder. You can’t take your eyes off him, the metallic cylinder seeming to disappear in his large hands, veins becoming visible as he grips it, arms tensing and tattoos flexing as he twists, offering you a soft smile when he notices your gaze.

He stretches in his chair, trying to reach the pipe near you. It takes a minute to register that you should hand it to him, you’re caught up thinking about how big he looks leaning across the table, how his t-shirt pulling across his chest like that makes you want to bury your face in it, how warm it’d be, how safe and content you would feel.

Ashton gently says your name, breaking you from your reverie and gesturing towards the pipe.

You grab the glass piece and happily plop onto his chair to hand it to him, pecking him on the cheek for good measure. He chuckles at your eagerness, shifting to make room for you; he watches amusedly as you attempt to find a sitting position opposite him that is both comfortable and allows you to cover yourself with your hoodie.

“You know you’d probably be warmer if you didn’t come out here pantsless, baby.”

“You know I don’t believe in pants after 11pm, I can’t believe you’d suggest such a thing,” you reply with playful indignance, looking up at him triumphantly as you successfully bring the sweatshirt down over your crossed legs.

He cackles as he packs the ground weed into the bowl; he nudges your knee, which you correctly assume is his way of asking for the lighter he knows is in your hoodie pocket. You hand it to him and watch as he lights up and starts to take his first couple hits. 

You intended to pay more attention - admire his lips wrapping around the mouthpiece, his fingers flicking the lighter, let yourself be awed at how small your pipe looks in his hand - but you got distracted at the sight of his thick thighs as he sits cross-legged in his favorite basketball shorts. You think to yourself you don’t appreciate Ashton’s legs enough and reach out to tenderly rub your palms over them, humming contentedly when you find his skin as warm and comforting as you imagined.

“Baby...” He squeezes your hand on his thigh, refocusing your attention as smoke pours from his mouth. “You’re in a mood tonight, aren’t ya?” You can tell by his sing-songy tone and goofy smile he’s already starting to relax.

“Been thinkin’ bout relaxing with you like this all day,” you say dreamily. He offers you the pipe and you take it, practically purring when he sneaks his hands inside your sweatshirt and strokes over your legs while you smoke like you did with him. “Just happy you’re home and here with me.”

Ash pulls you into a slow kiss, tongue moving in the same delicate pattern his fingers are tracing on your thighs. “I missed you too, baby,” he admits as he pulls away. “You know I try not to be a downer but it was one of those days where I couldn’t help thinking it would’ve been better if we’d just shut off our alarms and stayed in bed together.”

“God, fucking same,” you commiserate, taking one more puff before passing the pipe back to him. “Tell me what happened.”

The two of you go back and forth trading stories, the pipe and every so often, a kiss. After a while, he decides to pack one more bowl and you lean back opposite him on the chair as he sets up again. You look at the stars, smiling to yourself as the combination of your high, the breeze and the sound of Ash quietly singing along to your playlist makes you shiver. Today was hard but if it’s what you had to go through to end up here in this moment? It was worth it.

You sit up on your elbows when you hear the spark of the lighter. You watch him take a long drag from the pipe and you’re not sure what it is but he just looks so goddamn beautiful, you find yourself overcome. Before you even realize what you’re doing, you crawl over to him and bury your face in the crook of his neck.

He giggles softly, sitting the pipe aside as you attach your mouth to his neck, giving him what could either be three hundred quick kisses or just three long ones, you’re not sure, your lips seem to be moving of their own accord and really all you’re thinking about in this moment is how much you wish the beard burn you’re feeling on your face was between your thighs.

“You good, baby?” He asks with a slight rasp in his voice, which you suspect is partly from his long day but also perhaps an indication he’s beginning to feel needy for you too. You take a detour to nip at his ear for a second before you kiss your way down his neck again; you work your mouth over the front and you moan when your tongue feels the vibrations of the soft moan he lets out.

You climb into his lap, straddling him and he stretches out his legs to accommodate you. You wrap yourself around him, in a kind of koala hug for a beat or two before quietly murmuring, “Been thinkin’ bout this all day too.” You offer him a deep, passionate kiss that tells him how much you need him, today, everyday and right now this fucking minute.

Ash waits for your lips to slow and then he pulls away, cradling your face, looking into your eyes, searching. His hazel eyes are gorgeous as always but blown wide from smoking; you know yours must look similar but you can tell he sees the love in them, can sense your hunger. He makes out with you for a few minutes, following your lead, waiting to see how far you want to take this.

Your kisses are becoming increasingly heated, increasingly filled with need and he decides to have a little fun with you. His hands run down your back and land on your ass, affectionately rubbing over your hoodie covered backside as he cheekily replies, “Thinking about me all day, huh? What exactly you been thinkin’ about all day?”

A naughty grin spreads across your face. You love playing this game with him. “Started this morning when I had to drag myself out of bed even though I had you naked next to me,” you start, leaning into another slow kiss before you pull back just slightly, staying close enough that your lips brush against his while you speak. “You looked so good when you told me goodbye, laying there half-asleep, cock more awake than you were. Wished I’d taken the time to slip you inside me, started off my day by feeling you get hard for me.” You begin grinding into his lap to emphasize your point.

Ashton licks over your lips, squeezing your ass approvingly as you move over him. “If you’d have done that, I guarantee neither of us would’ve left the house today,” he laughs sinfully. “What else, baby?”

Your hands brush over his bearded cheeks. “Every time I saw my reflection today I expected to see the marks your beard leaves - every weekend I just get so used to seeing my neck and chest so red… I miss it when we have to go back to reality,” you sigh, leaning back on your hands as you grind, exposing your neck, whining a little as he takes the bait and sucks a few spots on your skin, purposefully dragging his beard on you.

“Like that, baby?” He eggs you on, helping you ride him over his shorts, hands now roaming your ass over your panties, your hoodie having ridden up from your movements. “You want to know something I thought about today?” Suddenly his fingers are firmly gripping you and he gently lifts his hips up against your center, meeting your hips a few times to show you how hard you’ve made him.

You nod, gasping as you feel the swollen head of his cock rub directly over your clit, just two thin pieces of fabric separating you. Weed always makes you sensitive but you can’t believe how you can feel yourself already soaking through your underwear, making them feel even thinner than they already are.

You can tell Ash notices it too, his fingers moving down your ass, inching closer to your pussy, clearly having felt the wet spot you’re spreading on his shorts and wanting to feel it for himself. “Mind was wandering while I sat in traffic… thought about that time we got caught in that big jam driving home from the airport? Been so long since I’d seen you… you didn’t want to delay our reunion any longer so you started jerking me off right there,” he remembers, breath heavy. 

For a brief second you think he might pick you up and take you inside, fuck you against the glass door or maybe on the table in the entryway. But instead he keeps moving his hips with yours, biting his lip as the friction builds. "Got so hard remembering your lips wrapping around my cock just as I started to cum… I was so sure someone was going to see us but you couldn't give less of a fuck… Jesus, baby, you're dripping." His fingers dance over the wetness that’s spread down to your thighs and you breathe his name as he stills and pulls your panties to the side, sliding his fingers through your folds.

You brace yourself on his shoulders as he teases your clit. “Thought about you all day, Ash... was so ready to let you have me however you wanted as soon as I got home… but then you weren’t here… had to do it myself, think about you some more.” You’re not sure if you’re making sense but you’re so far gone you don’t really care and judging by the look on his face as he watches you grind into his hand, he doesn’t either.

“Saw your vibe on the nightstand, wondered what I’d missed out on,” he laughs, pressing your clit a few more times before bringing his fingers to his mouth and licking them clean. “Might have to ask for an encore performance, you know I love watchin’ you, baby.”

You feel his cock throb beneath you, as if to back up his claim. You groan and grip the tent in his shorts, pulling the material slack against him and squeezing, watching in awe as precum seeps through the fabric, leaving his bottoms almost as wet as yours. You can’t stop picturing how angry and red his cock must be from leaking like this; you decide you need to see it and pull him out of his shorts, whining when you see how shiny and wet he is for you.

You tap his cock on your clothed clit, rolling your hips over him, the both of you moaning at the motion. As good as it feels, it’s not enough and you push your panties to the side again and rub his tip directly against you, whimpering as he growls your name, his hands flying to your hips to keep you moving. 

Ashton’s fingers dig into your skin as he holds you against him, thrusting steadily through your wet folds. In your hazy state, you have the briefest thought of slipping him inside you but you’re already sure you could cum from this and it’s just feeling so good… has anything ever felt this good? You don’t want to stop. As you slide your pussy over his length, you can feel every ridge, every vein, you swear you can even feel his pulse as you move against his cock. You can’t stop.

“So fucking wet, baby,” he pants, hips moving wildly now. He slaps your ass a couple times, partly hoping it’ll get you moving faster and partly hoping it’ll get you to cum sooner because he’s not sure how much longer he can hold out. “Were you this soaked when you played with yourself earlier?”

You moan when you feel the sting of his palm. “Of course not,” you huff, nearing your end. “Nothing’s ever as good as when I’m with you… fuck Ash… love your cock so much, don’t even need it inside me to get off,” you ramble as you move eagerly on him. A few breathless whimpers later, you’re grabbing onto his shoulders as you cum and shake against him.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck,” he groans, pushing through your wetness once more just as it gets to be too much. You feel his cock jump and then he’s shooting cum all across your pussy; you gasp when you feel the warmth of his release on your thighs, a stark contrast to your cool, exposed skin.

Ashton tries to keep his eyes open so he can watch himself cover you in rope after rope but between the noises you’re making and the relief of finishing, he has to let his head fall back in bliss. You lean over him, softly nibbling at his lips as he comes down. 

“Hi,” you coo as his eyes flutter open.

“Hey,” he sighs, dazed.

“Think you ruined my panties,” you smirk.

Ash grins devilishly. “Is that a complaint?”

You coyly shrug and squeal as he suddenly presses the latch on the armrest, laying the chair flat, settling back to easily hoist you up over his face. You let out a desperate “Oh! Ash!” as his tongue licks you clean, eagerly moving across your folds and your thighs, mixing his cum with yours and swallowing it all down.

As he pulls away, he flicks over your clit a couple times, laughing warmly as you nearly jump out of his hold. “Relax, baby, I’m just playin’,” he soothes, pressing a soft peck to your pussy and each of your legs before moving you off of him.

Neither of you can seem to hold back the satisfied smiles painting your faces as you resituate yourselves: him putting his cock away and readjusting his chair, you peeling off your underwear and pulling your hoodie back down before crawling back into his arms.

You lay against his chest and the two of you bask in euphoric silence for a few minutes, curling into each other as the late night breeze picks up. You start to wonder what he’ll do if you fall asleep out here, when he reaches for the long-forgotten pipe, sparking the lighter to finish the bowl he started before you got frisky.

Your eyes meet as he pulls his hit and when he’s done, you press your lips to his, inviting him to pass the smoke from his mouth to yours. You easily finish off the bowl together like that and then you’re back on his chest again, sated and stoned.

“Sorry you had a shit day, love,” Ashton murmurs, pecking your forehead.

“Same… but it’s kinda funny to think that the shittiest days always seem to lead to some of my favorite nights with you,” you muse, softly sighing as he wraps his arms around you and squeezes you tight.

————-

Thank you to everyone who has signed up for the taglist, both for the support and the lovely (occasionally hilarious) feedback! If you haven’t signed up yet, the form is linked above! (If you signed up and your name is crossed out or not listed, I was unable to tag you, please check your blog settings and either re-sign up or send me a message letting me know you allow mentions now)

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[ailendolin]

🤔 Has no one asked about Ho-Tan on the character ask game?

No, so far no one has! Which is why I chose to interpret your question as a request and did the ask game for our favourite scribe 💙

One aspect about them I love:

This is completely random but I love how she covers her ears when she’s scared. I do that all the time when I watch horror films because I jump at sudden, loud noises, not at gruesome sights, and seeing her do the same always makes me smile.

One aspect I wish more people understood about them:

I think a lot of people, myself included, tend to forgot how vicious she can be. She was first in line to pawn Choop after he turned himself into a golden statue and she figured eating Trevor was perfectly alright, even for a vegetarian. “Grey area – like fish.” We don’t see that side of her very often but it exists and should probably be more acknowledged.

One (or more) headcanon(s) I have about this character:

Ho-Tan treasures her possessions like a dragon treasures its gold. It’s a headcanon I originally included in your WW fic last week but ultimately had to cut because it didn’t quite fit in the end. So let's talk about it here a little.

Ho-Tan doesn’t call many things her own – there is her tea cup collection and the few books and scrolls she acquired for herself instead of the library, and of course the little box of full of all the small gifts Vex had given her over the years but that's it. Those things mean the world to her. After losing everything she owned when her parents’ house got burned down – every quill she worked so hard to be able to afford, every sketch she ever did, every story she ever wrote, every flower Vex had given her and she pressed between the pages of a book to dry and preserve it – the mere thought of something like that happening again terrifies her. The whole time she’s stuck in Debbie’s world and then later in the woods she can’t help but worry there'll be nothing left to come home to once the dust has settled, and it breaks her heart.

One character I love seeing them interact with:

Flowers. I love all the moments where Flowers reaches out to comfort one of the Elders and, “Breathe, Alfie,” is definitely my favourite of them. He seems like such a caring person and I wish we’d gotten to see more of that. I want to know the story behind him calling her Alfie – is it significant? Is Ho-Tan comfortable with it? Is Flowers the only one who’s allowed to call her that and if so, why? I just want to know more about their history.

One character I wish they would interact with/interact with more:

Debbie. I always got the impression that Ho-Tan really likes Debbie and maybe even admires her. She’s so happy to get a Debbie doll for Thanktival and yet we never see them interacting as friends (which is due to the concept of the show and episode length, I know). Perhaps Ho-Tan doesn’t really know how to approach Debbie and ask her to spend time with her so she just ... doesn't. In any case, I wish we’d gotten to see those two bonding over girl things (maybe Debbie sees how wistfully Ho-Tan looks at her dresses and encourages her to try one on?).

Also Vex for purely self-indulgent shipping reasons.

One (or more) headcanon(s) I have that involve them and one other character:

Ho-Tan never tells anyone when she doesn’t feel well. She swallows down the headaches, the nausea, the chills and carries on as if nothing’s wrong because that’s what she’s always been taught to do. Taking a day off and staying in bed just hadn't been an option for her before she becae an Elder, seeing as her younger siblings depended on her to get them ready for school, make them food and so on.

Vex is very much aware of that. He’s seen it happen again and again over the years he stayed with Ho-Tan’s family but couldn't really help her back then. Now, though – now he bundles Ho-Tan up in as many blankets as he can find at the first sign of a sore throat and makes her her favourite tea and brings it to her in her favourite cup. He reads to her when she gets tired of being stuck in bed all day on her own and holds her in his arms when the chills keep her awake at night. Ho-Tan always tries to protest (old habits die hard) but it’s half-hearted at best because she knows Vex won’t listen and well, she doesn’t really want him to, not when it feels so nice to be cared for for once.

(In the Overlords-and-Elders-become-allies AU, Voltari and Negatus learn to pick up on the signs of Ho-Tan coming down with something as well. They don't know why she she never says anything but they know Vex can help so whenever Ho-Tan so much as sneezes, they ask him to check on her. Both Vex and Ho-Tan find this very sweet.)

Already answered: Nigel, Thomas, Robin, Pat, Kitty, Julian, Vex and Choop

Next up: Debbie of Maddox

Ask game can be found here.

[forever-rogue]

hi 🥺 can i have "It's lonely here without you" from list 2 with Jack? 🥺 if possible some hurt/comfort situation? love you 💖

Hi bb, you can have whatever you want 🥺💕

Agent Whiskey x Fem!Reader ; warnings: none

Pedro Characters Masterlist 

»»————-　♡　————-««

You sighed to yourself as you looked around the dark, empty bedroom. It was early still, and the day was just breaking over the horizon. The sky was an inky blue, melding into orange and pink as a new day was beginning. Birds were softly chirping outside the window, traffic was starting up, and the world was slowly waking.

And yet you wished you weren't. Not alone anyways. 

You missed him. You missed Jack. Everything about him - his smile, his laugh, his touch, his kiss. Every little thing about him was so golden and after having been in his glow for so long, it was hard to go with it. It was for work, missions sometimes called him away for extended periods, but it was always hard.

Reaching for your phone on the nightstand, you quickly unlocked it and scrolled through your notifications, swiping away most of them. Only one really caught your attention - a very early good morning text from Jack. A smile tugged on the corners of your mouth as you read over the text and some of your previous conversations. Jack was the epitome of an old man when it came to texting, but damn he tried, and he never failed to make you smile. Your favorites were always the silly selfies he sent in his down time.

Gods, you hoped he would be back soon.

I miss you, you quickly typed out, it's lonely here without you.

Before thinking too much about it, you quickly sent it and turned the phone upside, burrowing back into your pillows. They still smelled like him no matter how often they were washed - not that you minded. 

It was only a few moments before the phone vibrated. Surprised by the quick response, you snatched it back up and hastily opened the message.

Get up, your brow furrowed at the cryptic message, go to the kitchen.

You quickly replied - what?

Just do as I ask for once, Sugar, without any sass.

Fine!

You beamed at his message, still confused as to what he meant, but decided to indulge him. Pushing back the warm, plush blankets you slowly climbed out of the bed, letting your feet hit the carpet with a soft thud. You grabbed a nearby sweater, which just happened to be Jack's, and pulled it on before slowly padding downstairs and to the kitchen. The house you shared with your husband was decently sized, but when you were alone it felt gigantic and cold.

You were humming to yourself as you walked into the kitchen, stopping dead in your tracks as you spied a large bouquet of your favorite flowers on the counter. Your face lit up as you walked over to them, completely forgetting that you should be worried about the fact that mysterious flowers had appeared in your kitchen.

You looked for a card or some of indication of their origin, touching a few of the soft petals. Unfortunately, you found nothing. No card, note, anything until - 

"Hi Sugar," you almost jumped out of your skin as you looked around the flowers and found Jack grinning back at you. You almost squealed in delight as you ducked around the corner as you threw yourself into his arms. He held you tightly, easily wrapping his arms around you as you buried your face into his chest, "hi baby, I've missed you so much."

"Jack," you pulled back to look at him, studying his face, watching as his soft brown eyes crinkled with his smile. You touched his cheek, watching as he keened into your touch, "I've missed you too. I didn't expect you back so soon."

"Maybe I pulled your leg and said I was going to be gone longer than I was," he teased as he kissed you softly. It was easy to melt into his touch, to get completely lost in him, "I wanted to come and surprise my favorite girl."

"Whatever for?" you asked softly as your heart fluttered gently. Gods, you were so in love with him, and you couldn't imagine a life without him anymore, "I don't think I've missed anything...its not our anniversary...no plans? Why…?"

"I didn't think I needed a reason," he insisted with a gentle shake of his head, "I just don't want to be away any longer than I needed to be. And I figured this would be a nice little surprise. I know how hard it is for me to be away from you, and I imagine its the same for you…"

"I detest even being away from you for even a day," you promised, "anything longer is practically torture. I was thinking about stowing myself into your luggage this time around."

"A most welcome surprise that would have been," he swiped his thumb along your cheek before kissing you again. He hand went to the back of your neck as he held you close and you wrapped your arms around his neck, breathing him in. If you could have stayed like that forever, you easily would have, "I love you."

"I love you," you trailed a few kisses along his jaw before going back to his lips and giggling as his mustache tickled your lip. You always teased him for it, claiming it would look ridiculous on anyone else, but it worked for him. And it did - of course he looked handsome without it, but there was something about that was just so...him.

"I suppose I do have one thing I've been wanting to tell you," he cleared his throat as you pulled back, a worried expression etching onto your features. He shook his head fervently before tenderly cradling your face in his hands, "no, no, no, sugar, don't worry - it's nothing bad!"

"Jack! You can't just spring something like that on me," you pouted at him, sticking your bottom lip out as he chuckled softly, "out with it! What is it?"

"Well, I was thinking," he started and immediately held up a finger to your lips to silence you. He knew you well enough to know that you were about to make a sassy comment, "I know its a shocker, but hear me out."

"Sorry baby," you grinned at him, "go on."

"I know we've talked about it and I was just thinking...we've been married for a while now and well, if we're serious about starting a family in the near future, I want to be home more," you listened carefully to his words, but you couldn't help yourself as a grin stretched across your features, "I don't want to miss a thing, and want to be here for everything and I think its time I took a step back from statesman. Besides...I'm not the same young man I once was."

"Jack," you put your hands on his broad chest as you tried to blink back the years that threatened to well up. You'd been waiting to hear those words for some time, although you never would have told him that. You knew how much his job meant to him and you'd never have thought about getting in the way of that. But it never stopped you from worrying about him, even if he was one of the best and most seasoned agents. He was your Jack, and you'd always worry - but this? This was everything, "do you mean it? I'd never ask you to do such a thing, baby. I know how much it means to you."

"I want to do this," he promised gently as he wiped away the single tear that had rolled down your cheek, "for myself and you and whatever else comes down the road. You are more important than anything else."

"I...I don't know what to say," you said softly as you could already picture long leisurely days with Jack at your side and in the near future, maybe a baby of your own, "besides the fact that I love you so much. You mean more to me than you will ever know."

"I'm hoping you'll say it sounds like a good idea," he almost seemed nervous as he searched your eyes for approval. It hadn't been a rash decision by any means, but he hadn't quite discussed it with you before making the decision to significantly cut back his duties. He didn't think you'd have a problem but still… "or otherwise I'll feel like an old fool."

"Of course it sounds like a good idea," you promised, gently carding a hair through his dark locks, "you continually make me the happiest woman. I don't know what I did to deserve you-"

"Oh Sugar, I think its the other way around," he insisted gently, "after...everything with...I never thought I'd get the privilege to love again, or to meet someone like you. You came into my life like a tornado, but I wouldn't change a thing. You have made me believe that there is good in the world, that there is a reason to get up every morning and be the best. I don't think you truly understand the magnitude with which I love you."

"A gentleman and a poet," you whispered as you wrapped your arms around his middle and held him close, "if we weren't already married, I'd say that sounded like a proposal."

"Well, I suppose it is a proposal of sorts, I propose I work less hours and spend more time with you," he teased, "if you'll allow it."

"Always," you beamed at him, "but right now I have a favor to ask of you."

"Of course," you reached for his hand and started to tug him away and towards the staircase, "we go back to bed and be lazy and spend the day doing nothing, "its still so early."

"Well my plan had been to make coffee and breakfast and surprise you with it," he admitted and if you it was possible to be anymore in love with him, you would have fallen in love then and there, "but someone was up early and I couldn't keep a secret."

"I couldn't sleep," you confessed softly, "I missed you...and there's been a lot on my mind lately."

"Oh?" he seemed concerned for a moment before you shook your head to let him know it wasn't anything serious, "everyone's alright?"

"More than alright," you grinned, "let's go back to bed and I'll tell you everything. We can make breakfast - later when the world is actually awake."

"Now you have me intrigued," he admitted as he let you pull him along upstairs. His hand was warm around yours as he held tightly onto it, the simple action causing a warmth to settle all over you. Jack was home and he wasn't going anywhere - what more could you want?

"Its nothing to worry about," you promised as you thought of the little surprise you had for him stashed away in the drawer of the nightstand, "just come with me and hold me and sleep. I've missed you."

"And I have missed you greatly," he paused at the landing of the stairs before pulling you into his arms and kissing you until you were practically drunk off of his touch, "my love."

"And I you," you nuzzled your nose gently against his, "now come on, let us be lazy and relax. Tell me everything about your trip and I'll tell you all about what happened since you've been gone…"

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[oogaboogasphincter]

The 50/10 Method (Agent Whiskey x f!reader)

Summary: Jack makes the most of your 10 minute study break. 

Word Count: 2.7k+

Rating: E (explicit) 18+ ONLY! bc this is just cringey smut lmfao

Warnings: smut (oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (obvi use protection irl), very easily and conveniently reached orgasms (this is a fantasy i can do what i want skjfkd), dirty talk, one (1) allusion to thigh riding and one (1) instance of 💙spitting💙, fingering, positions i hope i've given enough detail so y’all can imagine what i was picturing💀), pet names (sweetheart, honey, cowboy *affectionately*, good girl, baby), there’s a sentence about reader having long-ish hair, reader and jack have a dog, swearing, reader is afab and is called things like good girl and the like, just overall trash grammar and structure 😇

Author’s Note: so this is very poorly written and extremely self-indulgent, as i myself use the 50/10 method 🙃. but i had a lot of fun with it, and i think that’s what writing is supposed to be all about! :) also i was heavily inspired to write this after reading “Take a Break” by @mellowswriting​ and “Study Buddy” by @pascalpanic​. please go check those out because they’re absolutely fantastic!!!!! +while you’re at it, i would highly advise you to read anything on their masterlists bc they’re just 💜exquisite💜

gif by @thernandalorian​

The lines of text on your computer screen are starting to blend into each other, creating a single run-on sentence that one of your previous English teachers would ridicule the author for. The sharp curves and angles that distinguish each letter from the next are becoming soft and dull, blurring into each other until your brain can only recognize it as a smeared streak of black on white.

It’s 11:00am on a Saturday, a big exam set for the upcoming Monday’s morning. You don’t feel rushed for time, or overloaded with unknown material, and the early hours of the day have been quite productive. Following a shared breakfast of homemade waffles in bed with Jack, your boyfriend, you didn’t complain when setting up your study station on the living room’s large oak table. If anything, you had been excited to begin studying early in the hopes of finishing your review by the end of the day. That way, tomorrow would be free for you and Jack to do whatever you pleased.

However, as the hours went by, your motivation was slowly but surely diminishing. The serene study atmosphere that you usually thrive in is now driving you mad. You yearn for a noise, any noise; a bird to sing a song in the tree outside your window, the smack of your dog’s loose wrinkles against each other as he attempts to shake the sleep out of him, a pencil unable to stop itself from rolling and dropping onto the floor with a tink.

You’re momentarily gifted with the crisp sound of a page turning. You flit your eyes over to gaze upon the source of your granted wish and your heart flutters in reaction to the sight: Jack’s resting on the couch, cowboy hat balanced on the back of it, deeply absorbed in the next installment of his favorite murder-mystery series. You find it curious that his desire for an adrenaline-filled challenge doesn’t stop when he comes home from mission after mission that nearly cost him his life. You’ll ask him about his insatiability one day, but for now you categorize it as fictional research for his Statesman assignments.

Your short glance quickly turns into an entranced stare. Jack looks... divine. Fetching. Luscious. As he’s lying on his back, neck propped up against the arm of the couch, his book balanced on his chest, relaxation radiates off of him in waves and utterly seduces you. You’re surprised that he hasn’t been a greater distraction to you throughout the morning. How have you managed to ignore the denim-wearin’, plaid-shirted, pornstache-sportin’ cowboy of your dreams that is only a few steps away?

Involuntarily, the thigh muscles of your crossed legs contract in an effort to bring some semblance of friction to your now weeping core. Similar to your imaginings of your dog earlier, you shake your head to force these heavy, unwanted feelings to dissipate and turn back to the work in front of you. Of course, Jack does the opposite of what you’d like him to do and takes an interest in your fidgeting. He peeks over the top of his book, “You cold, sweetheart?” 

His question is reasonable: you’re purposely wearing a skirt that’s so short it rides up quite high when you sit. You don’t dare to meet his eyes and answer while pulling a textbook close and opening it up, “No, I’m okay.”

Fortunately he returns to his reading. Your attention is able to retain itself for about a paragraph, but then your mind takes a sharp detour back to those pesky, steamy desires. You mentally huff at your inability to remain concentrated on your studies and rifle through the options of what you can do to satiate yourself for the time being. 

You could switch texts and force your brain to recognize the change and therefore become distracted. You could pick out some colored writing utensils and bring some fun to active reading. You could say fuck it, go straddle Jack and beg him to use you in whichever way he would like.

Jack interrupts your brainstorming, “Are you sure you don’t need a blanket or sumthin’? I can go get my jacket for ya.” 

The attentiveness of your southern lover melts your heart. You turn to him, “No, really, I’m okay, thanks.”

“I wouldn’t count a bathroom break as taking away from your 50 minutes, honey, if that’s what’s makin’ you twitch.” 

You had been implementing and strictly adhering to the 50/10 method all morning: study for 50 minutes, take a break for ten. Its effectiveness was never doubted, as it has proven to work for you for years. Only ten minutes into this 50 minute period, the devil of restlessness pokes at you and makes you think could time go by any slower? A hand comes up to cover the blush creeping across your cheek as you dismiss Jack’s suggestion, “No, that’s not it.”

Behind your embarrassed hand, Jack cocks an eyebrow at you. Your simple choice of words has given the Agent a hint, that there is something that’s bothering you, he just hasn’t figured it out yet and you don’t want to admit what it is for some reason. He returns to his book, however lost in thought about what your problem could be, while you task every cell in your body to pay attention to your studies. 

35 minutes remain on the clock, and Jack guesses, “Did you have too much coffee?”

You can’t help but grin at his sleuthing, “No, I just had my regular.”

He conjures up another possible solution five minutes later, “Are you itchin’ to get out of the house? We haven’t left in two days.”

He’s getting warmer. Both of you know exactly why you haven’t left the house in two days: you’d been occupied with activities of the sinful variety. You can’t gauge yet whether or not he knows he’s dancing around the answer, “Baby, you’re distracting me. And nope, it’s not that.” 

He smiles apologetically, “Sorry,” and uses his book as a partition, blocking your ability to procrastinate and just visually drool all over him.

Silence fills the next 20 minutes. Even though Jack is out of your sight, details from your observations exaggerate themselves in your mind to the point that they’re all encompassing, intoxicating. The way his jeans wrap around his legs ever so perfectly, the worn denim hugging those muscular thighs that he loves for you to grind yourself against when you’re feeling especially desperate (like now). How his plaid flannel slopes over the swell of his belly, stretching tight against his skin as his diaphragm contracts and deflating when he exhales. Even his large feet, strewn about lazily on the couch, his toes pointing in different directions, amuse you. 

Ten minutes remain in your study session. Feeling guilty about spending the majority of the last hour envisioning the seductive intricacies of your boyfriend, you actually start to study. 

“How many times do you think I can make you cum in ten minutes?”

Your eyes are ripped from your material and land on the menace lazing on the couch. He’s put his book down, one arm behind his head while the other is crooked, allowing himself to palm his cock through his pants. Jack’s wearing a shit-eating grin, bewitching your crossed legs to switch which one is on top; an excuse to apply more pressure to the yearning area between them. You fidget in the chair, shamefully trying to get the seam of your underwear to rub against you in just the right way. You shrug, “I-I’m not sure.”

He gets up and comes over to you, standing behind you and leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder. He murmurs in your ear, “I think we should find out during your next break.”

You turn to face him, “I think so too.”

He gives you a quick kiss, “Well, you better be a good girl and study for these last few minutes. Earn that break.” He places his large hands on either side of your head and turns it toward your materials, making you both laugh.

Somehow, you’re able to pay attention. Jack’s impending promise of ravaging you for ten minutes straight quells your jittering nerves and gives you something specific to look forward to. Before you know it, your alarm is beeping, alerting you that your break has commenced. Jack cages you by reaching forward and grabs the clock, programs it to ten minutes and keeps it in his hand. He grips the sides of your swivel chair, pulls it back from the table and spins you around to face him, the speed of the turn making your hair swoosh across your shoulders. Through mutual giggles, Jack lifts you up, winding your legs around his waist, your arms doing the same around his neck. “I want you to count for me how many times you cum.”

Breathlessly, you simply obey, “Okay.”

He practically runs to the bedroom. He sets the clock on the nightstand and turns the face towards the mattress so you don’t lose out on studying time. Tossing you onto the bed, your giggling continues as you bounce from the force. Jack hooks his fingers in your underwear and yanks them down, pulling them out from under your skirt and over your shoes. The way he wastes no time ridding you of any other garment makes blood and heat flood your center and air rush out of your lungs. He pushes your lost air back into your mouth with a kiss and then immediately retreats back to in between your legs.

He flicks the fabric of your skirt up onto your belly, letting himself have complete, unobstructed access to his early lunch. His fingers fondle your folds while his lips place sloppy kisses along the inside of your thighs. After he’s had his fill of that step, he sits back and stares at you: spread out for him, more than willing to take anything he wants to give to you. He blows out a whistle, eyeing your core, and you say, “Hey, you’re on the clock, cowboy. No time for dramatics.”

He nods, a smirk pulling at one side of his mouth, “You’re right, sweetheart.”

He spits onto your cunt, forgoing his usual gentle licks to adequately wet your pussy. A quiet fuck escapes your mouth as he plunges his tongue into you. Your fingers wind themselves in his chocolatey locks and pull, extracting an excited moan from your lover. His fingers knead the soft flesh on the backs of your thighs as he eats and when his mustache starts to tickle your clit, you’re done for. Your grip on his hair becomes vice-like and your whole body seizes up, constricted by enrapturing pleasure. You strangle out, “One.”

Jack unlatches his mouth only once he’s certain your first orgasm is complete. He stands, admires your wrecked expression, takes his cock out, spits into his hand and pumps his dick a few times. Hands slithering around your waist, he flips you onto your stomach and pulls your ass up, positioning you on your hands and knees. You’re a little bit dizzied by his manhandling in combination with his expert tongue, but this type of vertigo is the most enjoyable you’ve ever experienced. 

When he pushes into you, it’s a bit of a stretch because he hadn’t warmed you up with his fingers. He relaxes you by leaning forward, pressing his chest against your back and peppering soft kisses to your shoulder blades. The clink of his belt comically punctuates his thrusts, but your laughs are swallowed by intoxicated groans. You don’t know, and you don’t really care to figure out, how he already has you teetering on the edge of cumming again. Heightened senses tell you that you’re close; the fabric of his shirt feels unearthly soft as it brushes against patches of exposed skin, his fingertips are delightful lead in their clamp on you, his grunts and pants angelically reverberate in your skull. And then, suddenly and all at once, “Two.”

Jack’s pride shows itself in a smirk while he flips you onto your back. He makes a show of hooking your calves over his shoulders, eliciting laughter from the both of you. Resting almost all of his weight on top of you, your knees find your chest and his hands find your hair. The intimacy of it all is almost too much; his thumbs stroke your temples, palms cradle your head, those goddamned puppy-dog eyes bore into you. You turn your head in his grasp to check your timing: five minutes left. 

Jack’s tongue darts out to lick the pads of his fingers before he snakes it down in between the two of you to rub your clit. Your moans come out uncontrollably, your eyelids stutter and he eggs you on, “That’s it, sweetheart. Give me another one.”

Hearty moans are reduced to desperate gasps and you’re unable to verbally acknowledge the third orgasm that rips through you. Nonetheless, Jack can tell from the way your eyes roll into the back of your head and his name tumbles ferociously out of your mouth that you’re cumming. “’Atta girl.”

Jack takes his cock out of you and the whine that escapes your lips embarrasses you. He can’t help but laugh at your whimpering before he scoots down the bed and starts to eat you out again, framing his head with your quaking thighs. You find the strength to check the time, “Jack, there’s only a minute and a half left.”

He moans deeply into you, unaffected by your comment, and eases three fingers into your fluttering center. Like earlier, your hands fly to his hair like a magnet and find purchase so tight it makes your knuckles go pale. In a matter of seconds, circling your clit with his sopping tongue and tapping your g-spot with his deft fingers, Jack has you cumming yet again. This time you yell out the count, “Four!”

The sounds his ministrations make are lewd and exhilarating, pushing himself to his own precipice. You look down your body to find Jack’s other hand jerking his cock and his seed spilling out of him moments later. He groans into your pussy while you pet his hair, praising him for his efforts. 

Simultaneously, you both remember that you’re being timed. Your eyes meet the clock at the same time: 30 seconds. Jack springs from the bed and pulls you up with him, grabbing your discarded panties. He squats and taps your ankles so you lift your legs up, sliding each leg hole over your body and pulling your underwear up underneath your skirt. 

You fumble with his mussed clothes, stuffing his still-hard cock into his boxers, hiking his jeans up over his ass and zip and button them closed. You snake his belt around his waist and let his fingers do the work of buckling it before he picks you up bridal style and ushers you out of the bedroom, grabbing the clock off of the nightstand on your way out. 

Unhinged cackles follow you two down the hallway as you return to the living room. He plops you down in your chair, straightens you out, gives you a kiss on the cheek and then your alarm goes off. You raise your eyebrows at him, “Jeez, you didn’t waste a second.” 

He hums, then mumbles, “You get back to work now, babygirl,” and leaves you with a yearning kiss on the part of your hair.

Both of you return to your respective readings, hopelessly trying to downgrade your panting gasps to normal breaths. The absence of Jack’s warmth is already painful. But you rationalize that the indulgence of the last ten minutes is more than enough to get you through this next hour of studying, if not for longer.

Little do you know that Jack feels the same pain. His ache for your touch, sexual or not, will overtake him later and he’ll be unable to resist the temptation of coming over and distracting you again. Determined to finish your studying, you’ll propose a compromise: you can sit in his lap while he is lulled to sleep by the ambience of the afternoon rain and the enveloping comfort of you. The two of you can try to beat the record of four orgasms next semester. 

💘taglist: @pascalpanic​, @mellowswriting​